The Mystery in the Disappearance
by WildFlower084
Summary: The Booths vanished overnight leaving no clues behind as to what has happened to them. It's been more than 10 years and Parker wants some answers. He hires privtage investigator Jack White to look into his family's disappearance. It's been so long. Will Parker finally get the answers he deserves?
1. Prologue

He didn't have an appointment. I was busy working on another case, one involving an insurance company, when he walked in my door. As soon as I saw him, my instincts kicked in. His face looked familiar or maybe it was a resemblance to someone I had met in the past. Nevertheless, I knew from the beginning this case, if it turned out to be one, would be different.

He was tall with board shoulders and blonde hair. He looked like he could have played football in college. He was definitely big enough to. He walked straight towards my desk and saw down on one of my chairs. His eyes started into mine.

"You don't have an appointment," I told him.

He nodded, but said nothing.

"What can I do for you?" I asked.

"I need you to find my father."

"What happened to him?"

A short silence followed my question.

"I don't know."


	2. Chapter 1: The Background Story

**To make up for the very short prologue, here is the first chapter. The story is set approximately 14 years after the series finale (which I'm assuming is season 10). Also, please keep in mind that I haven't seen all of season 9 (only the beginning) so some information provided in the story might come in conflict with what was said and done during this season.**

* * *

I vaguely remember the day when the news came out. An entire family had disappeared overnight. Their cars had been found parked in their driveways. Colleagues had called the police to inform them of the disappearance. Because of the nature of their jobs, the investigation had begun quickly. The mother had been a forensic anthropologist; the father had worked for the FBI as a Special Agent. The two of them had been partner and were well-known in Washington, DC. They had arrested many killers in the careers. They would have made many enemies. That quickly became the theory.

Nothing much was told afterwards. The news had been broadcast worldwide as an international search for them had been orchestrated. They remained nowhere to be found. As the weeks passed by, we heard less and less of them until one day, it stopped completely.

I remember they had three children: two boys and a girl. One of them was now sitting in front of me. I soon learned his name was Parker.

"I'll need a bit more than "I don't know" if you want me to find your family. What can you tell me about the night they disappeared?"

Parker shrugged.

"Not much, I'm afraid. I was away with my mother when it happened. We only learned of their disappearance a week later when it was broadcast throughout the world."

"How old were you then?"

"Seventeen."

"Did you see your father often back then?"

"A couple of times a year. My mom moved around a lot. I had no choice but to follow her."

He told me what he remembered. There wasn't any new information. What he knew, he had learned from the broadcast. It definitely wasn't much to go on. I knew the risk of such a case. The chances I find some clues the FBI had missed were slim. But, for once, I'd have a challenge. After all, no one, not even the Federal Bureau of Investigation, had found out what happened. It was as though the Booths had simply vanished off the face of the Earth. The mystery surrounding them was quickly sucking me in its web.

"You realize the chances of me finding out what happened are small?"

"Yes, I understand that."

I smiled before informing him of my fees. I was confused as to how a young man in his mid-twenties would find the money to pay such an amount but he simply agreed to the terms.

"Don't worry about the money. It won't be an issue."

I didn't press the matter. Someone else was probably helping him financially.

"Can you give me names of people who might know more about what happened? Friends? Family members?"

He gave me three names: Angela Montenegro, Jack Hodgins, and Max Keenan. Two of those names were friends of the couple; the other was the forensic anthropologist's father. He had no idea where to find these people but he assured me that they would be able to give me more information.

"They've recently moved: Jack and Angela. I'm afraid I don't know their new address. I've recently come back from a trip overseas. As for Max, well, he was always on the go, only dropping by every now and then to help out with Christine when she was a baby. I haven't seen him since…"

I assured him I would do my best to find out what happened. He thanked me and left my office.

For a few minutes, I wondered what I would do. The logical side of me told me that it was nearly impossible that I would get to the bottom of the story. If the FBI hadn't found them, who was I to be the one to manage it? Yet, something told me that maybe the Federal Bureau had missed something, some important clue that maybe I could find. It definitely would be interesting to focus on something new. The insurance company case was getting nowhere. They were trying to prove that a man, who had claimed money from them after an accident, had actually faked his own injury. Personally, I didn't believe it. The old man was over 70 years old and could very well have broken his hip. The few times I had seen him, he'd had a limp.

I looked down at the three names I had jotted down. Since I didn't know where to find them, Google seemed to be a good option.

I typed in the first name on my list which led me to a well-designed website about a popular artist. I explored her website for a couple of minutes but found nothing helpful. Her name was Angela Montenegro and she looked like she was of Asian descent. Gray had lined her black hair in some places and even from her pictures you could see the wrinkles around her eyes. She looked very pretty. I guessed her age to be in the late forties.

I searched the Internet for a while. Her name appeared in some local news articles and blogs. She was a good painter and was even selling them online. After many minutes of searching, I finally found an art gallery in the area that sold some of her work. It seemed like a good place to start.

* * *

The gallery was empty when I stepped inside. A woman with short purple hair welcomed me in. She introduced herself as Sally. I introduced myself as private investigator Jack White. She seemed unsure why I was visiting her art gallery on a Saturday afternoon. I assured her that she had done nothing.

"I'm looking for a woman called Angela Montenegro. She might hold information about a case I am working on. I know you sell some of her paintings."

"Yes, we do!" Sally replied, proudly. "She is amazing! Have you seen her work? Here, let me show you."

She led me to the wall left to the cash register. A medium-sized painting hung on it.

"Here is one of my favorites. She called it "Autumn Sadness". I love how the painting shows signs of sadness. Don't you think it does?"

I nodded, unsure what else to say. I immediately made a note of the name of the painting. It was ironic that this painting should be called that as the Booths had disappeared in November.

"Do you know where I can find her?"

"I'm not at liberty to divulge any personal information on my clients, unfortunately."

"I understand that. But is there anywhere I would be able to bump into her? Does she still work at the Jeffersonian Institute?"

"Oh no," Sally replied, shaking her head vehemently. "She quit her job years ago. She decided to focus more on her art and her family. A wise choice, if you ask me. If she hadn't, maybe we wouldn't have the joy of selling her paintings."

"You seem like you are a very big fan of her."

"Yes! She is brilliant!"

She paused, looking once more at the painting.

"Do you think she painted that after her friends disappeared?" she asked me.

"Maybe."

She let out a long sigh.

"Alright," she said, turning to me. "I guess I could make one exception this time. You are investigating the disappearance of her friends, aren't you?"

I nodded.

"I won't give you her actual address or phone number, but I can give you her email address. I know she wouldn't mind if I did that. I already do it for some clients who are interested in more of her work."

"Thank you very much."

She handed me a piece of paper. She had scribbled the email address on it. I thanked her once again and left the gallery. I walked straight back to the office.

* * *

The email I wrote was brief. I explained how I had got her email address and the reason why I was sending her this message. I left her my contact information and asked that she contact me as soon as possible.

As soon as possible turned out to be later that night. My cellphone rang as I was getting into bed. I answered after a few rings.

"Hello?"

"Hi. My name is Angela. I'm calling about the email I received today."

I re-introduced myself and told her I had questions to ask her. She was nice and offered to meet me in her studio the following afternoon. I agreed and hung up.

I tossed and turned for most of the night. Around 4 am, I gave up on sleep and crossed the hall to my home office. I booted up my laptop and waited patiently for it to be ready. Once again, I opened Google. This time, I focused my search on the family.

I started with Seeley Booth. There wasn't much on him: some articles written after he had arrested a killer or some charity work he had done in the past year for the church. Nothing out of the ordinary for an FBI agent.

Next, I focused my search on the children but found absolutely nothing. Finally, I typed in the name I was saving for last. For some reason, my gut feeling was telling me she held the key to the mystery.

I spent the next two hours reading dozen of websites and interviews she had made over the years. I learned she had written many successful novels, even though her last one hadn't sold as much as expected. I immediately ruled out the disappearance as a way of making the sales climb. Somehow, it didn't seem to fit.

I finished my search around 6 am. I didn't know what to think. From the personal information I had gathered, the two of them seemed like responsible adults and had very respectable careers. It seemed unlikely that they would have been involved in something illegal which could have caused their disappearance. Then what? I stared at Temperance Brennan's picture, her face smiling back at me.

"What happened to you?"


	3. Chapter 2: Meeting Angela

**Thank you to everyone who has put this story on Alert and/or has left me a review. It's nice to know that you are curious to read more. It's something that wouldn't get out of my head but I understand that it is very different from what's usually on here.**

**Again, please keep in mind that I haven't seen season 9 yet (except the wedding part of the series). So anything that might come in conflict with the series wasn't done intentionally. **

* * *

Her studio was small but welcoming. Several paintings were hanging from the wall. I congratulated her on becoming an increasingly popular artist and even told her about Sally's passion for her work. She simply smiled.

"I've wanted to paint all my life," she replied. "But instead, I became a forensic artist. It's only when Brennan disappeared that I changed career paths. I just got sick of the whole crime scene."

I understood how she must have been feeling at that time. I, myself, had lost a partner while working as a police officer. When Thomas died, I refused to work with anyone else. We had been partners for close to 8 years and working with someone else had felt wrong. Weeks after his death, I was promoted to detective.

I went straight to the point.

"Do you think Dr. Brennan disappeared because of her job? Do you think someone was after her?"

Angela set down the paintbrush she had been using and turned to me.

"Who knows?" she replied, a certain wariness in her voice.

I was guessing she had asked herself that same question over and over again for the past 10 years.

"Can you tell me about the last time you saw Dr. Brennan? Tell me everything you remember. Did she seem nervous? Scared?"

Angela shook her head.

"No, she was just herself. "

"What does that mean?"

Angela chuckled.

"She was… special. She didn't think the same way we did. She used her logical side all the time. To her, things were black and white; never gray. That's why Booth and her made such a great couple. They balanced each other out."

"I see."

She then continued to tell me about their last night together. It was the evening she disappeared.

"We had been working very hard on solving this case. It was finally over but Brennan was convinced that we had missed something. Booth tried to explain to her that the murderer had been caught, that we had done our jobs, and yet she focused on that girl for hours. She just couldn't accept the conclusion of the case. She wanted to find the cause of every broken bone in her body which would have been nearly impossible. The girl had been beaten with several different objects and her killer, her next-door neighbor, had confessed to it. To us, it was enough to know that this poor girl's killer was finally behind bars and would remain there."

"Why was Dr. Brennan so intent on finding every torture weapon?"

"The girl was adopted at 15 years old. I think Brennan just related to her since she'd been in foster care at the same age herself. The girl was 16 years old when she died. She had only been with her new family for about three months."

I didn't know what else to say. I urged her to say more about their last night together. She smiled as she realized that she had got sidetracked.

"Well, after _hours_ of persuading, she finally agreed to have some dinner. The compromise was that she'd come back the next day to work some more. I didn't say anything about that. I knew she'd do whatever she wanted anyway."

She paused, a smile tugging at her lips, as she remembered something that would remain a mystery to me.

"We went to dinner, some place new. She wanted to try something different. We drove there in separate cars. I joked that she only wanted to take her car so she could go back to the lab to work on Sofia's body but she said no. She said she just wanted to go home and spend time with her children and her husband."

"How old were the children then? I understand she had two."

Angela nodded.

"Yes, they had a girl and a boy. Christine was the oldest. She must have been 7 or 8 when they disappeared. Jackson was much younger. They adopted him after both his parents died in a fire four years before they disappeared. He was just a baby then and Brennan just fell in love with him. They took him in a foster family and when no one claimed him, they asked the court to adopt him. It took two years before he was officially theirs. He was 4 years old when _it_ happened."

"Tell me more about the children. How were they like?"

Angela's smile grew warm as she recalled the children.

"Christine was more like her father. She liked science like her mother, but she preferred sports. She played soccer during the summer and took swimming lessons during the winter. She was very good at both. I think that bothered Brennan a little bit at first. But the fact that Christine was also very smart and was a straight-A student eased a bit of the pain that she would never be _entirely_ like her mother. She was a caring and compassionate child and she loved her younger brother. As a baby, whenever he would start crying or fussing, she would be by his side in a heartbeat."

"How about Jackson? What was he like?"

Angela chuckled.

"He was something else, always doing things he shouldn't have been doing. He was grounded more times in a year than Christine had been since she'd been a baby. But he was always polite and nice to others. He was active, but didn't like playing sports. He preferred to run around the house, instead."

"Did he know he was adopted?"

"I think so. I don't think Booth and Brennan kept it a secret. After all, he looked nothing like them. Christine still had blonde hair at that point and Jackson's was all black. I think he would have been too young to understand anyway but I know Brennan believed in honesty. That's why I'm assuming that Jackson knew."

"During dinner, did anything peculiar happen?"

Angela shook her head.

"No, nothing out of the ordinary. We talked about our families, our children, our marriages, our job, and the latest case. She seemed relaxed, so unlike how she had been when we left the lab. She had put Sofia's case out of her mind as soon as we'd finish talking about it. We stayed maybe three hours in the restaurant before she told me she needed to go home. By then, it was 7 o'clock. It was close to my son's own bedtime so we paid the bills and went our separate way. The next thing I know, it's the next morning, a Friday, and Bren isn't at work. I called her cellphone, but it was off. Hodgins, my husband, drove to their house. Both their cars were still there. He knocked a few times but no one answered."

"Is that when you called the police?"

Angela shook her head.

"We waited a few hours, at first, thinking that maybe they had overslept. It wasn't in their habit but it can happen to everyone once in a while. It's only by lunch that we really began to worry. I drove over myself, with Cam and Hodgins. Again, their cars were in the driveway. We knocked for several minutes with no answer. I had a spare key, for emergencies. I took it out and unlocked the door. The house was empty."

"Did you look through the house?"

"Of course, but we didn't find anything. The dishes had been washed. The beds were made. We found Christine's schoolbag beside the front door. Only their shoes, their coats, and Brennan's purse were missing. Their car keys were still on the coffee table. _Both_ their keys."

She paused, grabbed her paintbrush and resumed painting. I assumed this helped her calm the anxiety she still felt over her friend's disappearance.

"The house is still untouched, if you want to look through it. Parker still hasn't sold it. He can't bring himself to. He feels that the missing clue is in that house and that, if he sells it, we will lose it for ever."

"The house has stood empty for ten years?"

Angela nodded.

"Parker pays the electricity and the security system. He goes over once a week to clean the house himself. He still believes his father will come back and he wants the house to be in perfect condition."

"Do _you_ think they are still alive?"

Angela let out a long sigh, her paintbrush stopped in mid-stroke.

"No. I think they're dead."


	4. Chapter 3: Emtpy House

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews and to those who have put this story on alert. I was really unsure how this story would be received but I'm glad some of you like it. Hope you like this chapter!**

* * *

The conversation with Angela had left a bitter taste in my mouth. Over the next couple of days, I would replay the entire conversation in my mind and, each time, a chill would run down my spine, especially in the light of what I would quickly find out, hours later.

The way she had simply told me her thoughts on her friends' fates had given me goose bumps. But her reasoning was logical, I couldn't argue with it. If they were still alive, she had said, wouldn't they have been found by now?

Soon after my meeting with her, I gave Parker a call. I wanted his permission to visit his father's home. I didn't know what I was hoping to find there after all these years. All I knew was that I needed to get a feel of what the Booth's family life had been. The two of us agreed to meet the following day.

As I drove back home, I toyed around with different hypothesis. My first one, the most logical one, was that someone had not been happy with the two partners and had gone after them. Believing this theory, it would have been correct to assume that the parents, if not the entire family, were dead.

My second hypothesis followed a similar reasoning. It was possible that the two of them had been in danger and had been forced to go in hiding. However plausible, I quickly dismissed this one since it caused a certain problem: if they had gone into hiding, someone was bound to have recognized them somewhere, especially after 10 years.

The more I thought of it, the more convinced I became that I needed to look at the police's investigations files. A friend of mine had worked on the case back in the day. I immediately made him a quick call and was able to get an appointment that same afternoon. I turned around at the next intersection, despite the not U-Turn sign, and retraced my steps.

"You know I shouldn't be doing that," Ian told me as he walked me down to the archives, where the cold case files were being kept.

"I'm just going to take a quick look. No harm in that, right?"

Ian chuckled.

"I guess. But you won't find much. _We_ didn't find much back then."

He was right. Less than an hour later, I was coming back up and wishing him a good weekend. I had read all the reports without finding anything new.

Back in my car, I decided to put the case out of my mind. There wasn't much I could do at the moment. Anyway, things always seemed to get to me when I least expected them. Maybe this time it would be the case.

* * *

Parker got out of his car. He was 20 minutes late but I didn't mind. I had walked around the house, trying to get a feel of the place. But after so many years, with the house being almost untouched, it proved difficult. Parker had definitely taken good care of the place. The grass was cut neatly, no weeds were sticking out of the ground, and there was even a nice garden surrounding the house. I was impressed that a 25- or 26-year-old could do something so beautiful.

He greeted me with a smile. In his eyes, I could see the apprehension. I thanked him for allowing me to visit his childhood home.

"Nice garden."

He smiled, sheepishly.

"Actually, my girlfriend made it. She thought the house would look less abandoned if it had life around it."

He led the way to the front door. As soon as we stepped inside, I could tell the house had been kept cleaned.

"I try to come here every weekend to dust and vacuum the place. I know it's ridiculous but I feel like maybe my dad could come home any minute now. I don't want the place to look like a dump."

He gave me a brief tour of the house and we sat down in the living room. I still had a few questions to ask him.

"Tell me about the last time you saw your dad. What did you do? Where were you? Did he say anything that seemed bizarre to you back then or even now? Maybe he said something that you didn't think much of at the time."

His eyes stared into the distance as he thought back to many years ago. It was a long time before he spoke again.

"We went to a baseball game, just the two of us. It had been a while since it just had been the two of us because Jackson was always there. Don't get me wrong, I loved my little brother, but I always had to share him with my dad."

"Didn't you have to share him with your sister as well?"

"Yeah, but it wasn't the same. Christine was independent. She didn't demand a lot of attention. Jackson did. He was always getting into trouble. Most of the time, if I was around, I would get blamed because I hadn't tried to stop him. Apparently, I had to "protect" him."

He paused before continuing.

"I was there when he broke his arm. Fell off the tree in the backyard. I didn't even know he had climbed there. We were playing hide and seek. Christine was counting and I went to hide. She managed to find me and we went to look for Jackson. He had climbed high in the tree. He slipped and came crashing down. He broke his arm and Bones had to take him to the hospital. My dad yelled at me for hours."

"Did your father get angry easily?"

"Not with me. But after Jackson came to live with them, it was different. He changed. He looked stressed all the time. Thinking back, I now realize that my little brother had been a handful."

He paused again.

"Sorry, we were talking about a baseball game. Yeah, that was the last time I saw my dad. We watched the game, ate some food, and then drove back home. I can't remember what we talked about though. I think we talked about Jackson. He apologized for yelling at me and said that my brother would need his cast for another month."

Suddenly, he frowned as though he had remembered something very important.

"What?" I asked.

"I don't know why nobody thought of that before. I don't think the police knew."

"What?"

"Jackson still had his cast when they disappeared. He still had a couple days to go before he could take it off."

The implications of that new piece of information hit me like a tidal wave. I looked into Parker's eyes to make sure he wasn't lying. He stared back into mine, realizing himself, I'm sure, what this information meant. I immediately took out my phone and typed in a memo: Call hospital about cast. I turned back to Parker.

"Okay, here is what we are going to do. I would like your help. We will go through every drawer, every closet, every cupboard in this house until we find some clue that could help me figure out what happened."

"You really think we will find anything?"

I shrugged.

"I don't know, but we have to try."

We both got up and decided to start with the second floor. Quietly, we walked up and separated at the landing. He went straight for his parents' bedroom. I headed right towards the children's room.

I opened the first door into a very pink bedroom. Christine's "Brave" comforter stared back at me. I remembered watching that movie with my nieces back in the day where Pixar was still cool to them. For the life of me, I couldn't remember the main character's name.

Christine's bed was done, as though no one had ever slept in it. I saw down on it and looked around. She didn't have many decorations. Ribbons won at soccer tournaments and swimming lessons hung on the walls. A bookshelf stood in the corner, filled with children's books. I didn't know whether or not she had read any of them. A white dresser stood in the other corner. I decided to start with that.

The dresser contained the young girl's clothes. I looked under every piece of clothing but found nothing. I checked behind and between the books on her bookshelf. Empty. Everywhere I looked, I found nothing of importance. After twenty minutes, I closed the door to her room and searched Jackson's room.

The young boy's bedroom was definitely smaller. Decorated in dark blue with stars painted on it, the bedroom was any astronaut's dream. A solar system hung from the ceiling, his comforter followed the same theme. I called Parker into the room. He chuckled.

"He loved his stars. He'd beg Dad and Bones to go outside after dark just so he could look at them. He said his other Mommy and his other Daddy were sitting on one of them and looking at him."

I was impressed that a four-year-old could think of such a thing.

"Dad was a religious man. I think he told him that one night and it stuck to him."

"Was Jackson happy with your family?"

Parker nodded.

"Yes. He knew he was adopted. Bones made sure he knew where he came from. He would say that he had two Mommies and two Daddies. He told everybody. Made people uncomfortable at times. But Bones and Dad didn't mind. At least he knew the truth. He still loved them. Sometimes, he would go weeks without talking about his birth parents. Did you find anything useful?"

"No, but let's keep looking."

Parker went back to his parents' bedroom and I resumed my search. I had no idea what I was looking for, to be honest. FBI agents and other investigators had searched this house thoroughly but had found nothing. We were quickly heading in the same direction. I had been about to give up and head downstairs when I heard my name being called out from the other side of the house. I left the bedroom immediately.

I found Parker standing in his parents' bedroom holding some brown envelope between his hands. He was trembling when he turned to me. His eyes were widened in shock.

"This wasn't here."

Even his voice shook.

"What do you mean?" I asked, even though I was sure I knew the answer.

"This," he replied, handing me the envelope.

Curious, I opened it. Several pictures of the family had been stuffed inside it.

"This wasn't here when they searched the house ten years ago. This is new."

We stared at each other in silence for several seconds.

"Someone came here."


	5. Chapter 4: Pictures

**A/N: Again, thank you to those who have taken the time to review. It's always appreciated! :-)**

* * *

Neither of us was sure what to think of the discovery. I still held the brown envelope in my hands, unsure of what to do next. I stared at Parker who simply stared back at me, shell-shocked. I offered we make our way to the living room to be more comfortable.

By the time we reached the main floor and took a seat in one of the couches, Parker seemed to have managed to calm down a bit. He no longer shook but his eyes betrayed his stoic expression. I could tell he was still pretty shaken up. I understood, partially. I mean, finding these pictures opened up a lot of possibilities.

"You do understand that it doesn't mean they are still alive," I told him after sitting down.

I didn't know what to believe myself. Even as I said those words, I had a hard time believing them.

"If they are not alive, why are the pictures here? And who put them here? I'm the only one who has a key."

I shrugged. I didn't have a clue. I believed Parker when he told me he had no idea where the envelope came from. His initial shock had been genuine. However, why hadn't anyone found the envelope before? It had been hidden in the first drawer of one of the dressers, on top of socks and underwear.

I opened the envelope and took out the pictures. There were six in total. I laid them on the coffee table and the two of us bent over them. All six of them had been taken on a different outing. Two of them seemed to have been taken at a park. The other four had been taken at various places. Parker was only present in two of them.

"What can you tell me about the day these pictures were taken?" I asked him.

He grabbed one of them.

"I don't really remember. It was a long time ago. Jackson is still a baby in this one."

He pointed at one in the middle, where Jackson was still a toddler with curly black hair and dark brown eyes.

"He was maybe 2 years old here. I think we were at a restaurant that day. It could have been taken in a parking lot."

Suddenly, his face lit up.

"Yes, we _were _at a restaurant. We had just come back from the theme park! We stopped at this little diner outside of the city to grab something to eat. Max wanted to take a picture of all of us. In fact, I think he's the one who took most of these pictures."

He picked up the rest and examined them. I realized he probably hadn't seen their faces in a while. The house here was devoid of any pictures. Maybe Parker had taken them away, unable to look at them any longer.

"This one was taken maybe a month before they disappeared," he said about the second picture. "We were at the park near the house. Jackson and Christine loved going. My parents went all the time."

"Who took the picture here? Max?"

Parker shook his head.

"No, I don't think so. Max wasn't there that day. I think…"

He hesitated briefly.

"I think it was a man. We didn't know him. He was a stranger. Bones and Dad were arguing over whom would take the picture. The man offered to take the picture for us. He said… he said we were a beautiful family."

I suggested we search the downstairs area for more clues. But, an hour later, we had found nothing new. I asked Parker permission to keep the envelope with me. I wanted more time to examine the pictures more closely.

We parted ways after. I climbed into my car and drove out of the driveway. I decided to head home. I wanted to call the nearby hospitals to find out if a young child had been admitted for a broken arm back in the day. I wasn't putting much hope into this lead. The hospitals might not have the records and, if they did, were in no obligations to reveal anything to me. Also, if the family had already been on the run, they might have stopped in a different hospital across the country. There was no way of knowing.

At home, I set the pictures aside and focused on the hospital search. I turned on my computer and quickly searched for the nearest hospitals'' phone numbers. I extended my search to the hospitals in nearby states. It was possible that they had crossed the border into Virginia or even Maryland.

With the phone numbers in hand, I grabbed my cellphone and made many, _many_ calls.

After two hours, I plugged in my phone. My battery had dropped and the phone needed to be charged. As I thought, I hadn't got much information. Some hospitals had told me they weren't allowed to divulge such information. I thanked them for their time, whilst thinking I could ask my friend at the FBI for a bit of help. Two other hospitals told me they had no files belonging to a Jackson Booth. Two others told me that they would call me back in the next couple of days for more information, but I didn't want to hold my breath about that.

By the time I finished, dinner time was around the corner. I fixed myself some food, sat down in front of the television, and took my mind off the case for a few minutes. After dinner, I took a long shower. I loved spending time in the shower, simply letting the warm water run down my body and feeling my tense muscles relaxing. My ex-wife hated it. She liked her showers tepid. I couldn't stand it. She couldn't stand the steamy bathroom when I came out. This was one of the many different tastes we had. It was those differences that caused our divorce.

Nearly thirty minutes passed before I finally stepped out. As always, the bathroom was badly fogged. I stepped out of the bathroom wearing only my towel. I crossed over to my bedroom. As I got dressed, a noise somewhere down the hall reached my ears. I didn't pay much attention to it. I continued getting dressed. But the first noise was quickly followed by a second one, somewhat louder.

« Is anybody here? » I cried out, thinking maybe my daughter Laura or my son Bryan had stopped by for a visit.

No one answered me. I listened again for a few seconds but heard nothing more. I was about to step out of my bedroom when I heard the front door closing. Positive someone had broken into my apartment, I quickly walked out of the room and headed towards the front door. I opened it, expecting to find someone running down the stairs. Nothing. Not a single trace of a human being.

I closed the door and walked back inside. I briefly examined each room but nothing seemed to have disappeared. Whoever had been here, if there had been someone in here to begin with, hadn't taken anything. Suddenly, I thought of the pictures on my coffee table. Could that be the reason why someone had walked in? Did they take the envelope?

I walked back to the living room. Relief instantly flooded through me as I saw that the pictures were still there. But my relief was short-lived as I caught sight of the note beside the envelope. Slowly, I took the card in my hands. It looked like a blank business card. I flipped it. There was writing on the other side.

_The pictures contain the answer. Help us._

I frowned. What did that mean? And who had written the message?

I sat down on my couch and grabbed the pictures. I sifted through them in hopes of finding an apparent clue. I didn't.

I decided to put in chronological order. I placed the picture of Jackson as a baby first. From what I remembered, Jackson had joined the family a year prior to that picture. He seemed happy with them, smiling up at the camera. The next one wasn't much different. It was taken during the winter because the children wore small coats.

In every picture, each family member stared happily back at the lens.

_Now what?_ I thought to myself.

I tried to find a common fact in every photo. The most obvious one seemed to be that they had been taken outside, and not inside their homes. I couldn't see how that could be relevant or be the reason why these pictures had been placed in the Booths' former home.

Suddenly, something began to gnaw at my brain. I couldn't quite pinpoint it and the more I looked at the pictures, the less I could grasp whatever was gnawing at me. After a good thirty minutes, I put away the pictures. Instead, I decided to go for a walk. Maybe I could stop by my daughter's place and see how she was holding up. She had recently given birth to her first child, a baby girl named Faith.

* * *

It was an enjoyable evening. I arrived just in time to help Laura bathe her daughter. I picked out the pyjama and prepared her for the night. When it was time to put her to sleep, I shooed my daughter out of the room and told her to take time for herself. I would put my granddaughter to sleep.

When Faith was finally asleep, I joined Laura in the living room. She was watching TV. She turned it off as soon as she saw me.

"I know I should be cleaning or putting away the dishes. I just don't feel like it."

I told her not to apologize. She needed the rest too.

I sat down beside her and we began to talk. She told me about how difficult it was now that her husband had gone back to work. He was a lawyer and was currently working on a big case. He had been working late every day that week. I told her about the case I was working on. I didn't tell her about the pictures. The less people knew, the better.

Then, we moved on to childhood stories. She loved hearing them over and over again. I never got tired of telling them.

"Remember that time at the park, Dad?" she asked, as she laughed uncontrollably at the previous story.

I smiled. I remembered that day. As I thought back to that particular day, a thought popped into my mind. Suddenly, the evasive thought that had formed in my mind previously began to take shape: the park, the only picture not taken by Max.

My daughter must have noticed my expression because she instantly stopped laughing.

"What's wrong, Dad?"

I tried to shrug off the thought but I knew I wouldn't be able to. I _had_ to see those pictures to know whether or not I was right.

"Listen, Sweetie, I need to go. I just thought of something about the case I'm working on. I need to check some things."

Laura nodded.

"It's okay. I'm feeling a bit tired anyway. Faith is sleeping and I think I'll do the same."

"You really don't mind?"

« Really. Go work! I'll be fine. »

As I got up, I felt guilty. I didn't like leaving her like this but I knew I wouldn't stop thinking of the pictures if I didn't check them out once again.

The walk home seemed to take forever. The road stretched in front of me and it seemed like hours later I was finally reaching my home. I took the steps two at a time and dashed into my apartment. The pictures still lay when I had left them. I grabbed one of them and I knew immediately I had found something. I looked at the others. Same thing. I called Parker.

« Do you remember the man who took the picture at the park? »

« Vaguely, » he replied.

I could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

« Describe him to me. What you can remember. »

« Tall. Skinny. Short black hair. I don't know. I can't really remember. It's been more than ten years. Why? »

I decided not to tell him my theory just yet. My heart was racing.

« Just a hunch. I'll call you later. »

I hung up before he could ask more questions. I looked at the pictures spread in front of me. All but one showed a man in the background. The man was skinny and had black hair. Sometimes, his glance caught the camera. In two other pictures, he only seemed to be walking by.

He was in all but _one_ picture : the one he had taken himself?


	6. Chapter 5: Unexpected Clue

**A/N: I'm back with this new chapter. I hope you like it!**

* * *

Though I was sure the mysterious appearance of the pictures had given us a very important clue, it wasn't much to go on. If I were to believe the information given by the photographs, a man seemed to have stalked the family prior to their disappearance. But why? And who?

I lay in my bed, most of the night, mulling this new piece of information over. The possibilities were endless. He could have been the family member of a criminal they had put behind bars. He could have been an actual criminal on the loose who had chosen the family as a victim out of pure coincidence. I tried to plan my next move. First, it would be important to show the pictures to my friend at the police department. If the man was a criminal, my colleague was bound to have come across him. I would also need to speak with Angela and possibly her husband and everyone else who had come in contact with the Booths before their disappearance. Maybe they would be able to tell me more about the man in the pictures.

The night seemed to stretch on for days. Finally, sunlight tickled my face. I opened my eyes to find I had managed to fall asleep. My clock informed me I had only slept four hours. Oh well! It was time to get to work.

After a quick breakfast and a long shower to wash away the remainder of the sleepiness, I placed a quick phone call to Angela. She agreed to meet me at her house in the afternoon. I asked her if she would kindly give me the contact information for Dr. Brennan's former colleagues. I quickly wrote down what she told me before hanging up.

I first tried ringing a certain Dr. Camille Saroyan. My call went to voicemail. I introduced myself briefly and told her to call me whenever she had the chance. I placed two more phone calls before I finally reached a human voice. Dr. Lance Sweets told me he would be happy to meet me if I could stop by his office. I told him I'd be there shortly.

I didn't hold much hope in what I was about to do. After dropping by copies of the photographs to my colleague at the police department, who promised me to do his best to find the identity of the mysterious man, I made my way to the Hoover Building. Once again, for the sixth time that day, I introduced myself to the receptionist who told me to wait.

I didn't have to wait long. Before I knew it, a man was exiting the elevators and walking towards me. He extended his hand. I shook it.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Lance Sweets. It's a pleasure to meet you. Shall we go up to my office?"

I followed him to the elevator, making small-talk as we went. We stepped in and the door closed in front of us. We were alone in the little shaft.

"It really is a pleasure to meet you but I don't know how I can be of help to you," Dr. Sweets told me after the doors had closed. "Booth and Dr. Brennan disappeared and I have no idea where they went."

The doors opened. We stepped out and I followed him to his office where he closed the door behind us. I took a seat on one of the couches. He sat down across from me.

"I told the police everything I knew back then. They disappeared without a trace. Booth didn't tell me about anything suspicious or potentially dangerous going on in his personal life. Dr. Brennan and Booth were in a loving relationship and they had been married for five years when it happened. They had adopted a boy called Jackson a couple of years earlier. Everything was going well."

I nodded, unsure what to say.

"Like I said, I can't be of much help."

I smiled at him.

"Actually, you might be of assistance to me."

I took out the pictures.

"I want you to look at them carefully and tell me if anything strikes out."

I could tell I had piqued his curiosity. Dr. Sweets leaned over the pictures. I could see his eyes roaming the images in search of a piece of information they didn't know was there. I sat in silence. His office had the same grey-toned color found in every office in the building. His credentials hung on the wall behind him. I immediately realized he had graduated young.

"I see."

I looked back at Dr. Sweets. He was staring back at me.

"What do you see?" I asked him.

He held up a picture.

"This man appears in most of the photographs here, all except for one."

I nodded.

"I assume it was because he had taken it himself. But, of course, I have no way of truly knowing that. Do you know this man? Have you seen him before?"

Dr. Sweets shook his head.

"No, I'm afraid not. And Booth didn't mention anything about him either."

"Were you and Agent Booth close?"

The psychologist shrugged.

"I guess. Maybe. I don't know. We went out for drinks a couple of times a month. We talked about different things but he never told me he was being followed. Do you think this man is the reason why they disappeared?"

"Maybe, maybe not. I'm just looking at different leads."

"Where did you find these pictures? I don't remember seeing them ten years ago."

I wasn't quite sure how much to tell him. I hadn't done many cases like this one but I was sure the less I spoke, the better it would be. I chose to remain quiet on the origins of the pictures for the time being. I told him I wasn't at liberty of talking about that. He understood and dropped the subject.

We talked for a few more minutes before I thanked him for his time. He walked me back to the elevator and we said our farewells. My meeting with him still hadn't answered my questions but it had confirmed my gut feeling that this mysterious man was probably linked to the disappearance. However, the fact that, so far, none of the couple's friends had known about the danger irritated me. How come they had not confided in their friends? Unless they hadn't known they had been in danger before it had been too late? That was something I would have to find out.

I looked at my watch. It was almost time for my meeting with Angela and her husband. I climbed in my car and programmed my GPS for the couple's home. The program informed me it would take me 30 minutes in the actual traffic. I was delighted. I wouldn't be late.

* * *

I was immediately impressed by Angela's domain (for lack of better word). Of course, I would soon learn that all of this actually belonged to her husband. I buzzed the interphone outside the gate. A buzzing informed me I had been granted access and the metallic doors opened in front of me. I slowly drove up the driveway to the main house, passing green lawns filled with flowers.

Angela was waiting for me at the front door. Dressed in ordinary clothing, she looked very different from the last time I had seen her. She led me to the living room where her husband was already seated. I took a seat once again on a very comfortable couch, the married couple sitting across from me. I congratulated them on the beautiful décor before getting right back to business.

"Some new piece of evidence was found yesterday," I informed them. "At least, what I think is new piece of evidence."

I set the photographs on the coffee table. The couple leaned over.

"There's a man," Angela immediately said.

"Where?" her husband asked.

"Here," she replied, pointing at the mysterious man. "And here too. He's on almost all the pictures."

She looked up at me.

"Do you think he had something to do with their disappearance?"

"Do you know who he is?"

Angela shook her head.

"No, but…"

I frowned. My heart began to race. Was I about to get yet another piece of the puzzle?

"But what?"

Angela looked back at the pictures, then to her husband, and back to the pictures. I sat in silence, waiting.

"But… I mean, it's true that I don't know who he is but he looks familiar. Jack, don't you think he looks familiar?"

Her husband Jack shrugged.

"Not really."

Angela looked at me.

"I think I've seen him before."

"Really?"

I could feel my pulse quickened in anticipation.

"Yes… it was…"

She stopped again. I held my breath.

"It was just a few days before they disappeared. We went grocery shopping together. He was standing just behind us in line. Brennan dropped her debit card and he picked it up for her. I remember because Brennan just yanked the card out of his hand and had this… this… look on her face."

"What kind of look?"

"It was like she was disgusted by the man but there was nothing wrong with him. He was clean and polite. He wasn't offended by her disdainful expression. He just chuckled and told her to have a nice day."

I was impressed by Angela's recollection. Yet, something nagged at me. The anecdote seemed ordinary, something that could have happened to everyone. Why did Angela remember this scene so well? What did her friend tell her afterwards that could have caused her to remember the man? I asked her. She simply laughed.

"I have a good photographic memory," she said as though it was self-explanatory. "I just remember people's face."

I guess I would have to settle for that answer.

"You really think this man would have something to do with her disappearance? I mean, she didn't look scared of him. She simply acted like she wasn't very fond of him."

"And that's not surprising because Dr. Brennan wasn't fond of a lot of people," Jack added.

"To be honest, I really don't know what to think."

A noise behind me made me turn. I looked up to find a tall young man standing just outside the living room.

"This is our son, Michael," Angela explained.

I couldn't immediately tell the boy had inherited his mother's Asian's looks. His black hair and almond-shaped eyes betrayed his connections to the family. However, his attitude didn't resemble his parents'. Ignoring me, he walked over to the coffee table. His eyes fell on the pictures. I examined his reaction. But the one I saw completely surprised me.

In a split second, the man was sprinting out of the living room. I turned to his parents to find the same surprised expression on their faces. In a heartbeat, I was on my feet and in pursuit of the teenager. I could hear his mother called out his name behind us.

He was fast but I was taller and stronger. I caught up with him a minute or two later. I grabbed the back of his shirt, spun him around, and slammed him against the stone wall that separated the yard from the street. We were both breathing hard from sprinting across the lawn.

"Why are you running?" I demanded.

"I don't talk to cops," he replied.

He tried to pull away but I held him tighter against the wall.

"Good thing for you that I'm not a cop."

"Leave me alone."

He tried harder to free himself. I held on as best as I could. He was stronger than I had expected.

"I said _leave me alone_! I didn't even want to have anything to do with this."

"What do you mean you didn't want to have anything to do with this?" I grunted, slowly losing my grip on his shirt.

"Let go of me and I'll tell you."

I shook my head.

"How do I know you're not going to run away again? Tell me what you know."

Michael sighed loudly.

"I told her I didn't want to have anything to do with this but she didn't listen."

"Who? Who's _she_?"

I loosened my grip on him. He had stopped fidgeting. His eyes stared into mine.

"Christine."

* * *

**A/N: Now, I want to hear your theories. Who do you think the mystery man is? Do you think he's the reason the Booths disappeared? Do you think Christine really is still alive? I want to read what you think. :-P**


	7. Chapter 6: Michael's Story

**A/N: Thank you for your reviews! Reading them really motivates me to write as I know you are enjoying this story as much as I am. :-)**

* * *

We walked back to the house in complete silence. Of all the reasons he could have given me for running off, I hadn't expected to hear Christine's name in his excuse. My mind was in over drive! What did that mean? Were the Booths still alive? Why had Christine contacted him? Why now? Had something else happened?

Angela and Jack were waiting for us on the front porch, stunned by the events. Michael walked with his head down and passed by his parents without looking at them. I tried to give them a reassuring look but I don't think I succeeded. They followed us inside. I heard the front door close behind us.

The couple led us to the kitchen where Michael took a seat at the table. Angela immediately began making coffee. From where I stood, I could see her hands shaking. I took a seat beside the young man and asked him to tell me more about his confession. He remained quiet. I tried again.

"I told you! I don't want to have anything to do with this!" he snapped back at me.

Angela's hand paused in mid-air. She turned to her son.

"Michael? What do you know about this? Do you know where Brennan is?"

He shook his head.

"Then what's going on, Mike?" Jack asked, evidently confused.

"Sweetie, if you know something, you have to say it," Angela said.

Michael shrugged.

"I don't want anything to do with this."

Angela sighed, exasperated.

"What does that _mean,_ Michael? Just tell us what you know. It might help Mr. White here figure out what happened."

A cellphone rang somewhere in the house. Nobody moved. It stopped seconds later.

"Why did Christine contact you?" I asked. "Did she ask you to put those pictures in the house?"

Michael nodded.

The sound of clattering dishes broke the silence and startled us. I turned to find Angela picking up the mugs she had been holding. Evidently, her son's answer had taken her by surprise. I immediately ruled out the hypothesis that they had been aware of Christine's reappearance.

"When did she contact you? How did she do it?"

Michael still didn't want to meet my gaze.

"Through _Friendz Haven_. She added me as a friend a couple of weeks ago."

_Friendz Haven_ had been created 10 years earlier by a group of person who had wanted to mimic the less-and-less-famous Facebook by creating a new site where people could sign up to play free games and join different interests groups. The entire website was free and often hosted meet ups in different cities in the world. It had quickly grown in success and, even after 10 years, it still held the record for the most long-term subscriptions. _Almost _everyone had a _Friendz Haven_ account. I, thankfully, was not one of them.

"How did you know it was her? You must have been 6 or 7 when she disappeared."

"I was nine," Michael immediately corrected me. "I'm a year older than she is."

"Still, she must have changed since she was 8."

"She looks like her mom," Michael replied, turning towards his own mother.

The comment elicited a smile from Angela.

"At first though, I didn't know it was her because she changed her name. I asked her to prove who she really was because, you know, she's supposed to be dead. She told me a story about our childhood that only we knew. That's how I knew it really was her."

"What was the story?" I asked, curious.

Michael's cheeks turned a deep shade of red.

"She told me about our first kiss."

Jack chocked slightly on his sip of coffee. A tiny bit spilled over the kitchen table. Angela immediately grabbed some napkins and began wiping away the mess.

"Your first kiss?"

"Well yeah… It was nothing, really. It was a year before she disappeared. I told her I liked her. She asked if that meant we were going to get married one day. I said sure. I know it sounds silly but…"

I could hear Jack snicker at his son's story. Michael glared at his father.

"I was young, okay? We only kissed on the cheek. That's all that happened. We never spoke of it again. Next thing I know, her entire family disappears and I don't hear back from her until recently."

Jack chuckled louder and a smile tugged at Angela's lips. Michael ignored his parents.

"What else did she tell you?"

"Not much. Just that she had waited long enough and that she needed help to bring justice to her family. I think she's been doing her own investigation, I don't know. All of a sudden, she's talking about family pictures and how she wants me to put them in her house. I told her I didn't want to have anything to do with this. If she wanted the truth to come out, she could just go to the police herself. After that, I didn't hear from her for a while. Next thing I know, there's an envelope addressed to me in the mail with all these pictures and a card that said…"

"The pictures contain the answer. Help us."

Michael looked at me, sheepishly.

"Sorry I trespassed into your apartment. I had dropped the card and thought, maybe, it would be useful."

"How did you know where I live?"

Michael looked over at his parents and said nothing. I decided to drop the subject.

"Do you know where Christine is?"

Michael nodded. Taking out his cellphone, he punched in a few keys. Seconds later, Christine's _Friendz Haven_ page was showing up on his screen. All four of us stared down at her angelic face. She was a very beautiful young woman. Angela gasped beside me. Michael had been right: the resemblance between mother and daughter was uncanny.

* * *

The university campus was more crowded than I had expected it to be at this time of the year. I wasn't sure how many students took summer classes but I hadn't thought so many did. I wasn't sure where to go. Michael had told me that Christine often did volunteer work at the campus library. Since it was Saturday, I didn't have much hope of finding her there. Still, I had to start somewhere.

After Michael had showed me Christine's profile, I had made the decision of driving down to North Carolina. I had asked the Hodgins' not to tell anyone about this new lead. I had immediately phoned Parker to tell him I was heading out of town to pursue a new lead. Though he pressed me for more information, I told him I didn't feel comfortable speaking about it until I was completely convinced my hunch was right. He said he understood and we hung up after I promised to call him as quickly as possible. Then, information gathered from the profile in hand, I had jumped in my car and driven straight to North Carolina.

Sometime between the night she disappeared and the day she contacted Michael, Christine had moved to North Carolina. From what I read on her _Friendz Haven_ page, she now studied forensic anthropology at Western Carolina University in Cullowhee. I couldn't say it surprised me. After all, she was probably just following in her mother's footsteps.

I managed the find the library a couple of minutes after I had arrived. Students were walking about, completely oblivious to the stranger amongst them. I wasn't sure where to start. After searching the main floor, I still hadn't stopped anyone looking like Christine. The library had several floors. I decided to try the second one.

I walked nonchalantly between the rows of bookshelves. This floor was a lot quieter than the main one. A few students sat in comfortable-looking armchairs, reading and taking notes on their laptop. Others were listening to music and typing away on the computer. I made my way to the back of the room. It was only when I reached the row in the far back that I saw the first woman, a young woman with light brown hair. She was tall and of average weight. I looked down at my cellphone where Christine's picture smiled back at me. Had I located Christine Booth? Somehow, things seemed too easy.

The woman was putting books back in the shelves. I cleared my throat. She turned and looked at me. Her face matched perfectly the girl in the picture. My heart began to beat faster. Was I about to solve the mystery of the disappearance?

"Christine?" I asked, unsure what else to say.

Her body instantly stiffened.

"I'm sorry. I think you're mistaken me for someone else."

She resumed putting the books away. I took a step closer to her.

"Christine Booth?"

The book slipped from her hand and fell on the floor. I bent to pick it up but she was quicker.

"I don't know who Christine Booth is. I told you already. You are mistaken."

She straightened up. Her hard stare met mine.

"My name is Angela."


	8. Chapter 7: Meeting Christine

**A/N: Again, thank you everyone for your reviews! Sorry this chapter is a little short... I promise a very long one the next time! It's already written but I will take a few more days to make sure Christine's version of what happened makes actually more in reality! So it might be a while before I post the next chapter. I hope you like this one!**

* * *

I knew from her _Friendz Haven_ page that she was now named Angela Jennings; whether her parents had chosen that name for her when they disappeared or that she had been named thus afterwards still remained a mystery. Her profile didn't hold much information. She had deliberately chosen not to share too much personal information with her friends.

After her brief introduction, she had quickly turned her back to me but I could tell by her tense posture that my presence made her nervous.

"I'm Jack White," I continued, hoping to get her trust. "You left me a message a couple of days ago."

"I did no such thing," she hissed back, her body still facing away.

"You told me the pictures held the key to what happened to your family. I am here to help you."

Slowly, she turned to me. I could tell she still had her defenses up. To be honest, she had every right not to trust me. To her, I was just a stranger showing up unexpectedly and calling her by a name she had probably not used or heard in 10 years.

"I can't talk here," she replied.

I nodded.

"I understand. Where?"

Christine let out a long sigh. She placed the book she had been holding back on the shelf and walked past me. She glanced around the area a few times before turning back towards me. I grabbed a notepad and a pen. Lowering her voice, she gave me the address to an apartment building. I'd have to search to know where that was. I hoped it was near the university.

"I share it with a roommate but she'll be out until 10. I get off work in about two hours."

I glanced at my watch. It was nearing 4 o'clock.

"I'll stop by around 8:00, if that's okay with you."

She nodded curtly before going back to her books.

* * *

At 8:05, I pressed the buzzer to the apartment building. The door was immediately unlocked as though Christine had been waiting for me right beside her door. I went up to the third floor and found her standing just outside her apartment looking furtively around. She led me inside and closed the door behind her.

"If anyone drops by while you're here, you are a distant uncle. And my name is Angela. No one has called me Christine since… well… in a very long time."

I sat down in the kitchen. Christine offered me some coffee which I declined. I told her I wanted to sleep tonight. She chuckled, nervously. Her anxiety was obvious. She was playing with the ring she wore on one of her fingers, twirling it around.

"I texted Michael after you left. He said you were legit," she said, her eyes staring straight into mine.

"I told you. I am here to find out what happened to your family. What happened the night you disappeared?"

Christine sighed.

"It's a long story."

The buzzer interrupted us. Christine excused herself and went to the door. Just as she had done with me, she greeted her guest outside the apartment. A couple of minutes later, a young man of about 18 walked in the apartment. From his black hair, I assumed I had just met Jackson. As they walked back to the kitchen, I took the time to examine them.

They were both approximately the same height, though Christine was an inch shorter. While Christine looked exactly like her mother with her square jaw and her blue eyes, Jackson's traits betrayed his adoption. Muscular and with broad shoulders, his eyes were gray and his hair was still curly and black. He had definitely changed since the last picture of him was taken.

Jackson and Christine sat in front of me.

"This is Jackson, my brother. Except now, he is called Jonathan. I invited him over. I hope you don't mind."

I told her I didn't. In fact, I was quite happy to meet the missing couple's two children. I knew Jackson would probably not remember much about that night but meeting them both would give me a feel of the relationship the siblings had had in the past. Now, they were both seated in front of me.

"So, what do you want to know?" Christine asked.

I didn't know where to start. The fact that the Booth children were still alive changed many things. I wondered how the FBI could have missed that clue. Were they even aware that the children were alive and well? Did it mean the parents were still alive as well?

Millions of questions ran through my mind. I focused on the important ones.

"Well first, I want to know what happened on the night you disappeared. What I'm most curious to find out is how come you are still alive after so many years and why didn't you try to contact someone earlier?"

The siblings exchanged glances. With no surprise, Christine is the one who answered.

"It's a really long story."

"You keep saying that."

"It keeps being true."

"Why don't you start at the beginning? What happened to your parents? Are they still alive?"

Christine remained silent. Instead, she answered my question by another question.

"Who sent you here?"

I was pretty sure she knew that already from having spoken to Michael. How else would she have known about me? If she hadn't known I had been working on the case, she wouldn't have sent the pictures. I was sure of that much.

"Parker."

At the sound of her brother's name, Christine seemed to soften up a bit.

"Well, tell him he's wasting his time. We don't know what happened to our parents after we left them."

"What do you mean you left them?"

Before neither of them could explain, I interrupted them.

"Let me guess… It's a long story?"

A smile tugged at Christine's lips.

"You can say that."

"Like I said. Start at the beginning. Start with the night you left your home. What happened then?"

"It happened a long time ago. I'm not sure I'll remember all the details."

"It's okay," I assured her. "Tell me what you remember."

Christine nodded slowly. Looking over at her brother for support, she took a deep breath and began to speak. For the next hour, I listened to the horrible story of the night the Booths were forced to abandon their home.

* * *

**I want to know your theories on what has happened. Why do you think Christine and Jackson had to change their names? What's your theory on the man? Do you think Booth and Bones are still alive? I'm curious to find what you all think of what has probably happened. Don't be shy! Everybody has theories! Maybe yours is the correct one! ;-)**


	9. Chapter 8: Christine's Story

**A/N: I hope you have time to spare because this will be a LONG chapter. Get ready to hear Christine's version of the events that happened on the night the Booth family disappear. Might want to grab some tissues (for you softies out there - like me!)**

* * *

"I don't know where to start."

"Start at the beginning. What happened before you had to leave? What were you doing? Who were you with?"

* * *

"Dad, Jackson, and I were spending the evening together, just the three of us. Mom was out with her friend, I think, at some restaurant. I was getting ready for bed when she walked in the house. I heard her and Dad talk downstairs. I sat down at the top of the stairs to listen but they stopped when they saw me. I remember they looked worried. Mom was talking very fast. They told me to get my brother and that we were going on a little trip. They tried not to look too worried but I could still feel it. I ran to my brother's room and woke him up. I told him what Mom and Dad had said. We went downstairs after that. Dad took out two bags from the closet and we left."

"Did he lock the door behind him?"

Christine nodded. I made a mental note to check up on that lead later. Didn't Angela say both set of keys had been left behind?

"We walked to the park in our PJs. Jackson found it really funny. I asked if we could play a little but Dad said we didn't have time. He said, though, that we needed to play hide-and-seek for a little while. There was a small wooded area just outside the park with bushes. Dad hid us very well and told us to stay quiet no matter what happened. Then, out of nowhere, this man began calling out for my Dad. Mom told us to keep quiet so the man wouldn't hear us."

"I remember being scared," Jackson said, in a low voice. "Very scared."

Christine nodded.

"He grabbed my hand and held it tightly. The man was screaming at us to stop hiding, that he knew we were there. He yelled for a long time but, eventually, he stopped. Dad whispered to stay hidden until it was safe to leave. I'm not sure how long we stayed there. Eventually, Dad said it was okay to come out now. It was dark outside. We walked through the wooded area for a few minutes. I was tired. Dad carried me part of the way. I think Mom had to carry Jackson. I must have fallen asleep because, the next thing I know, we were on a bus. Mom and Dad were wearing a wig. I fell back asleep. When I woke up, we were in a motel room and it was morning."

She paused for a few seconds.

"We stayed there for two days. We weren't allowed to leave the room, not even after dark. I asked my parents why we were here but they would not tell me anything. Dad tried to cheer us up, saying it was like a little vacation. But Jackson and I were bored. We wanted to play outside. We had no toys and the TV didn't have a lot of channels. Eventually, Dad agreed to let us run around outside. He watched us like a hawk as we ran in the motel's backyard, playing tag and just laughing. It felt like we had only been playing for two minutes when Dad stood up abruptly and told us playtime was over and we needed to go back inside. He almost pushed us back into the room and locked it the second we were inside.

Later that night, just as I was about to fall asleep, I heard someone knocking loudly at the door. Dad told us to hide in the closet. I was scared. Jackson was crying and Dad snapped at him and told him to be quiet. The pounding at the door got louder. A man was yelling on the other side of the door. He kept saying: "Let me in! I know you're in there! You have something that belongs to me!" Even today, I don't know what he meant."

She paused again.

"Then what happened?"

"We stayed in that closet for a very long time. Jackson was still whimpering and I was too scared to fall asleep. I was so tired. My eyes threatened to close but I forced them open. We waited a long time but the man didn't come back. Mom said we had to leave. I think that's when I realized that we were in danger. Dad agreed with her and we packed up our stuff again. We didn't have much though. In the bag Dad had brought with us were only clothes, toothbrushes, toothpaste, and soap.

We walked a very long time along a road. There weren't any cars there. It was dark, the road was surrounded by trees and I was scared. Actually, terrified is a better term for what I was feeling. Every shadow felt like a threat to me. I held tightly to my mother's hand. I had no idea where we were. We walked until the sun was up then we hid in the forest. Dad told us to wait there and that he would be back soon with a car. I don't know how long it took him but he did come back with one. I remember Mom asking him how he did that. He said "Thank Tony and Roxie." I have no idea what he meant by that. We didn't know anyone of that name. At least, that I know of."

I made a mental note to check out that lead as well. The more Christine spoke, the more confused I was getting. This story was unfolding in ways I had never imagined it would.

"Anyway, we drove for days after that, only stopping for gas and a bit of food. We lived off whatever we could find at the gas station. I'm not sure how long we drove. Maybe four or five days. Once or twice, we stopped at motels to sleep. Other times, we slept in the car. Dad and Mom took shifts to sleep. Then, one night, we were driving and Mom and Dad didn't want to stop. They kept whispering in the front seat. I couldn't hear much. I tried pretending that I was asleep in hopes they would speak louder but they didn't. All of a sudden, I felt something collide with the back of our car. I was jerked sideways towards my brother. Mom screamed. I felt another crash, then another. Suddenly, Dad just drove off the road and we crashed into a tree. No one was hurt, thankfully, but Mom and Dad hurried us out of the car. There was another car parked on the side of the road farther from us. A man stepped out of the car and he came towards us. At first, I thought he was here to help us. But when Mom pushed both of us behind her, I knew the man was not a friend.

Dad told him to leave but the man said he wouldn't leave until he got what was his. I remember looking at him from behind Mom. The man seemed like a giant to me. The look in his eyes terrified me. He punched Dad in the face and lunged at Jackson. But Dad was quicker and he jerked Jackson away from him. Then, he turned to us and told us to run as quickly as we could and that they would catch up with us very soon. So, I grabbed Jackson by the hand and ran. We just ran until we were so out of breath I thought I would pass out. I never looked back."

I sat in horror, stunned by what I had heard. Christine held on to her brother's hand and I could see her entire body shaking. Recalling that story must have been a very difficult experience. I found myself thankful that I had never had to face such a horrific ordeal.

"What happened next?"

"To my parents or to us?"

"Both."

"Well, we don't know what happened to our parents after," Jackson replied. "After we ran away, we never saw them again."

Christine nodded.

"We just left them there," she continued.

I could hear the guilt in her voice.

"The forest stretched on for miles so we decided to hide in there. I figured that's where Dad would have wanted us to go and that's where he would start looking for us. There was a big tree in the middle of the woods. I told Jackson to hide in that tree. He was still wearing a cast on his arm so it was difficult but I managed to help him climb up to the middle of the tree. I sat on a lower branch and waited. We waited there until the sun came. It was a cold night and we sat in the tree, shivering. Every noise scared me to the bone. Sometime during the night, I heard footsteps somewhere in the forest. I was sure that it was the man and that we were going to die. But morning came and we were still alive. Jackson wanted to find somewhere to eat but I told him our parents would never find us if we kept moving. I was convinced they would come for us. Dad never let us down. If he said he would get us, then he would come and get us."

"But he never did?"

Christine shook her head. Tears threatened to fall from her eyes. I could almost feel how painful it must have been for her when she had realized she was now on her own.

"We stayed in that tree for a long time. We talked about school, about our friends. Jackson asked me tell him a story. So, for a while, we invented silly stories to pass the time. The next day though, it dawned on me that Mom and Dad would never come. I climbed down and helped Jackson down as well. My legs were aching, my stomach felt like it was being poked by a thousand needles and I thought I was going to vomit. We walked out of the woods the same way we had come in and walked back to where we thought the car would be. But we found nothing. I figured, now, that the car must have been towed away but back then, I found it odd that the car had simply vanished. I looked everywhere for signs of my parents but found none. Not even a drop of blood. So we just kept on walking. Eventually, we reached a town. We passed by a school. One of the kids saw us and went to tell their teacher. Next thing I know, we are being ushered into the school and an old woman is calling the police. And that's when I stopped talking."

I frowned.

"What do you mean you stopped talking?"

"I just stopped. The psychologists I saw afterwards told the social worker we were both in shock. I mean, everything was so chaotic when we got inside the school. Jackson was crying out for my mom. Everybody seemed to panic around us. People were yelling at each other to call the police, to call an ambulance, etc. They pressured me for answers to their questions. The old woman was almost in my face, asking me if I was okay and what had happened to me. The more people asked us questions, the more Jackson cried and the less I knew what to say. I was afraid for my parents. I didn't know where they were and I was terrified that they were both dead. I was afraid that the man was coming for us. I couldn't erase the memory of the man's eyes as he tried to grab Jackson after the accident.

The police came and took us to see a doctor to make sure we were okay. The doctor took some X-rays of Jackson's arm and took off his cast. Then the police woman brought us to a social worker. The social worker, Janice, told us we would need to go live with a family until our parents could be located. They asked us our names. That's when I decided to lie in hopes that it would keep us safe. I told them my name was Angela and that my brother's name was Jonathan."

"You really thought changing your name would keep you safe?"

"I was young," Christine replied, defensively.

Her tone reminded of Michael's when he had defended himself about the first kiss. I supressed a smile.

"I really thought it would keep us safe. The man chasing us was looking for a girl named Christine and a boy named Jackson. I thought that, if we changed our names, we would be safe. I assume they believed us. They did try to ask us more questions but I never said anything."

I turned to Jackson.

"Do you have anything to add?"

"No, I don't. Sorry. I was only 4 years old when everything happened. I don't remember much."

Christine continued her story.

"We were moved from homes to homes for about six months. They were still looking for our parents and I was still mute. I was still afraid the man would come for us. I didn't sleep well at night. I began to have health problems. They took me to see different psychologists but I was too terrified to say anything. I realize today what a mess of things I have made! It would have been much easier to tell the truth but…"

"Did you ever tell the police what happened?"

Christine shook her head.

"No. But eventually Jackson said that our parents were dead, that we had seen them die. He described the man that tried to take us and said that he had killed our parents. I mean, it was probably true. They looked for a body for weeks around the area we described but they didn't find anything. After searching for relatives failed, they put us permanently in the foster care system. I was adopted out first. I became Angela Jennings and I moved to Florida."

"Then, a year later, it was my turn. I was adopted by a very nice family. My second adoptive parents are Stephen and Izabel Stafford. I live just nearby."

Christine smiled.

"It was a coincidence. I moved here to study at Western Carolina University and I happened to meet his adopted sister, Megan, in one of my classes. I became friends with her and one day, three years ago, I went over to her house for a group project. That's where I met Jackson. I thought he looked familiar. We got to talking and realized who each other were."

I didn't quite know what to say. As unbelievable as this story sounded, I believed them. Sure, the story seemed to have many loopholes but I blamed it on Christine's young age at the time of the events. However, more questions had now popped up. Where were their parents? What had happened to them? Were they still alive somewhere or were they dead, like Christine thought?

Also, with a country looking for them, how had they managed to hide out for such a long time? How had Seeley Booth rented a car under a false name? Had they planned their escape way before they had had to do it?

"Are you okay?" Christine asked.

She was looking at me, a worried expression in her eyes.

"This is all a bit much. When I came here tonight, I definitely didn't expect to hear all of this."

"I'm sorry. But you wanted the truth."

"And I bet it feels good to finally let that all out after so many years?"

Christine nodded.

We talked a bit more about their lives now. Christine told me about her studies in forensic anthropology to follow in her mother's footsteps. She wished to solve mysteries, just like her parents had done. I told her that her parents were special, that not every forensic anthropologist goes out on crime scenes and interrogate people like her mother did.

"Well, I know _that_," Christine replied, laughing.

Then she told me about her adoptive parents, Richard and Amanda Jennings. Richard was a psychologist and Amanda was an elementary school teacher. She said that they were both nice and had made her feel loved during her childhood and teenage years but that they would never replace her parents.

"I think Amanda knew that from the beginning, but I think it still hurt her that I never really thought of her as my parent. She was more my legal guardian. I still love her, but she's not really my mom, you know?"

I told her I did, even though I couldn't even imagine.

Jackson had lived a similar life. His parents were very nice to him and he felt secure and loved with them. He had been accepted in the same university as his sister in criminology. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do. Being a police officer really interested him, but he would think about it for a while.

Footsteps were heard in the hallway and we soon heard a key turn in the front door. Christine quickly got to her feet and shot me a warning look.

"Remember. You are a distant uncle!"

I nodded.

Seconds later, a young woman entered the apartment. She frowned when she saw the three of us standing in the kitchen.

"What's going on here?" she asked.

"Umm… well, I got a visit from my uncle Jack. Uncle Jack, this is Megan, Jonathan's brother."

I shook her hand.

"Nice to meet you."

"Same."

She turned to her brother.

"What are you doing here?"

Jackson looked from sister to sister.

"Well, I came to see you but Angela said you weren't here. I was just about to leave."

I could tell Megan found the whole situation suspicious but she graciously dropped the subject. She walked directly to her room and we soon heard the door click.

Christine accompanied us to the door. I handed her my card and told her to call me if she thought of anything else. She agreed to do so, even though she knew she wouldn't be able to contribute much more information. Before I left, I asked whether or not she had planned to go back to Washington in the next future.

"Probably not," she replied. "I mean, my life is here. Why?"

"Well, let's just say there are certain people there who would love to see you again. Your brother, for instance."

Christine nodded.

"I'll think about it."

Jackson and I said our goodbyes and headed downstairs. I was about to step on the street when Jackson said my name. I turned around to find him still on the porch.

"There's something we didn't tell you."

I frowned. What _now_?

"Angela didn't have time to tell you because my sister arrived but she's the one who sent the pictures to Michael after he told her that Parker had hired you to find us. She thought you could help figure out who the man is."

"Where did you get them?"

"That's the problem. And that's why Angela finally decided to talk. You see, we got them in the mail."

"In the mail?" I asked, surprised.

Only packages were delivered by mail now.

"Yes. The problem is we don't know who sent them. There wasn't any note inside the package. Only the pictures. We thought they could be more useful to you than to us."

"Well thank you. That was very thoughtful of you."

Jackson nodded.

"Please find out what happened to them. Even though I don't remember them and that I am very happy with my new family, I still want to know what happened. They adopted me when my first parents died in a fire, you know?"

"Yes, I know."

"They didn't deserve what happened to them."

"I know that too."

I wished him a goodnight and I walked back to my car. Seconds later, I saw him do the same in his own car. As I drove away, I thought about everything I had heard tonight. More questions had definitely erupted and I wondered how I would solve this more than mysterious mystery.


	10. Chapter 9: Last Wish

For several days, I thought about everything Christine had told me. I hadn't spoken to her or Jackson since my meeting and didn't think we would until I had more information to give them. Though I was officially working for Parker, something in me just couldn't keep the Booth children out of the loop. After all, they were important witness to whatever crime had been committed.

The more I thought about it, the less I understood. I now knew my instincts about the mysterious man had been founded. For some unknown reason, he had been pursuing, if not even stalking, the Booths until it had forced them out of their home and, I assumed, the state. However, I couldn't determine the reason why the man would have stalked this particular family.

After being back for two days, I decided to call Parker and Angela. I wanted them both together so I could break the news to them that Christine and Jackson were still alive and well. They both agreed to meet at a coffee shop close to the Jeffersonian Institute the following day. Afterwards, I called my friend at the police station who informed me he had no information to give me on the mysterious man. He said that it didn't fit any most wanted criminals and the face didn't look familiar to any older police officers. I thanked him for his time and effort.

I hadn't put much faith into it and yet, I was bummed that I hadn't been able to get an ID. That man held the key to what had happened that fateful night and we had no idea who he was. From the pictures, I figured he must have been in his early thirties. I would have to confirm the fact with Angela who was the only one, besides the Booth family members, who had seen him.

My daughter called soon after I arrived home asking if I wanted to visit. I agreed to spend the evening with her. It was a nice, quiet evening during which I kept my mind off the case. But the second I stepped in my apartment, all my questions flew back at me. I tried to tune off my mind as I climbed into bed and tried to fall asleep.

They sat in front of me. Angela had invited her husband and her son to the meeting. Not that I minded. However, it somehow made the whole thing more difficult. I started by explaining to Parker the reason for my trip to North Carolina. He stared at me, wide-eyed as I informed him his siblings were still alive.

"Christine and Jackson are safe?" he asked in disbelief.

I nodded.

"Yes. Your sister contacted Michael a few weeks ago. She is the one who asked Michael to put the pictures in the house."

"But how?" Parker asked, turning to Michael. "The door was locked."

"I borrowed my mom's keys to your house. Remember, you gave her the second set of keys?"

Angela turned to her son.

"I don't think it counts as borrowing if you didn't ask permission. Those keys were in my bedroom. What were you doing snooping through my stuff?"

Michael looked from his mother to me, unsure what to answer. Before this conversation could turn into a family matter, I continued my story.

"Anyway, she told me what happened to them that night. Everything she could remember that is."

I then explained to them everything Christine had told me. The four of them listened in complete silence to the horrific tale of the family's escape. Angela's eyes eventually watered as I went on and I heard her sniffle a few times throughout the story. Parker stared blankly at me. When I finished, I waited for them to say something. When nothing came, I asked a couple of questions that I thought they might have the answer to.

"Can you explain what "Thank Tony and Roxie" meant? Did they know anyone of that name?"

Angela chuckled through her tears.

"It's been a while since I heard those names!" she replied. "Those were the names they used when they went on undercover assignments. But they were definitely not on any assignments that night. We weren't even working on a case. We had solved the last one."

"Do you think it's possible that they took these identities when they were forced to move out?"

Angela shrugged.

"It's possible. I mean, it's something I can see them doing if they thought they were in danger."

"And they never mentioned anything to you about a stalker? Dr. Brennan never spoke of that man at the grocery store?"

All of them shook their heads negatively.

The more information I got about this story, the more my instinct told me that this had been a planned escape. After all, Christine had told me her father had grabbed a bag full of their stuff, as though he had been prepared for such an event. If he had been able to rent a car under a fake name, I assumed he'd had a fake driver's license. This demanded a lot of illegal planning that I just didn't see a serious FBI agent doing.

"Do you know anyone who could have helped them fake IDs?"

Jack chuckled loudly and Angela suppressed a smile.

"As a matter of fact, yes, we do," Jack replied.

"Brennan's father."

"And where can I find him?"

I directed my question at Parker who I thought would be able to provide that answer.

"Last I heard, he wasn't doing too well. If you want to talk to him, you better do it soon."

"Why?"

"He's dying. He has cancer."

* * *

I hated being in hospitals. The interior smell of them and the stillness of the corridors made me highly uncomfortable. I was grateful that Parker and Angela had agreed to accompany me. However, I had told them that I would need to speak to Max alone.

The man was lying in his hospital bed. Different tubes and wires were taped to him. He looked rather skinny under all those electric devices. His face was pale and dark circles colored the skin under his eyes. I thought of Dr. Brennan and felt a wave of sympathy towards her. If she was still alive, she probably wasn't even aware that her father was dying.

I took a chair beside his bed. The old man smiled at me and, in a whisper, told my two guides they could leave us alone. I told Angela and Parker I would meet them outside as soon as I was done.

"How are you feeling, sir?"

Max made some sort of unidentifiable sound.

"Well, you know…"

"I would like to ask you a few questions about your daughter, if you don't mind."

Max slowly blinked, as though nodding to agree would cost him too much energy.

"Go right ahead."

His voice was raspy, probably because he didn't have many opportunities to use it. From what I had understood earlier, Max didn't get many visitors. Angela tried to visit him once a week but it was never for a long period of time.

"Did you provide Seeley and Temperance with fake IDs before they disappeared?"

Max chuckled.

"I knew that I would get in trouble for that one day."

"So you did?"

He nodded.

"They asked me a month or two before they left. They didn't tell me why exactly. I knew some people who could help them with that. I did the transactions and everything. Booth didn't want anything to do with that but he said he needed to protect his family."

"And he didn't say why exactly he needed to protect them?"

"Not exactly. From what Tempe told me, they had some trouble with a man. They didn't know who he was but he was showing up almost everywhere they went. Booth just had a bad feeling about it. That was around the time they asked me for the IDs. After that, I wasn't around much and they didn't tell me the trouble had worsened."

"Did you know your daughter was missing?"

"I heard it on the news. But I don't know where they went or what happened to them after that. I've been worried about them for over 10 years. Do you know what that does to any old man?"

He had said this jokingly, I could hear it in his tone, a smile tugging at his lips. I found it bizarre that a man on his death bed could joke so openly. I wasn't sure whether I wanted to tell him about what I had learned. After all, he deserved to know at least partially what had happened to his daughter and grandchildren. However, I didn't want to cause him any more pain that he already seemed to be in.

"How long have you been sick?"

"About three or four months. The doctors say I have been lucky. This type of cancer could have killed me a long time ago but it didn't. I'm still here. The end is near though. I can feel it."

His words broke my heart and I thought of my own brother who had died from cancer a few years earlier. He had spent the last days of his life surrounded by his family and he had been happy. He had smiled and laughed until his very last day. As I stared at Max lying in his hospital, I knew I wouldn't be able to deny him what was left of his family.

"There's something else I should tell you. Christine and Jackson are still alive."

"Wh…what?" Max stuttered.

He tried to sit up which only resulted in physical pain. He flopped back down on his bed, wincing in pain.

"They are still alive?"

Without going into specific details, I explained to him what I had learned in the past week. I told him about Christine and Parker and the information I had received from her. Max stared at me blankly. Tears began to fall from the corner of his eyes. I felt a lump form in my throat.

"She is still alive…" Max whispered to himself.

"Yes," I whispered.

His eyes moved from me to the window. Silence filled the room. I was about to ask him if he preferred I left when he turned back to me, his eyes pleading.

"What does Christine look like?" he asked.

"She looks just like her mother."

A smile stretched across his face.

"Please tell her and Jackson to come visit me. I want to see them. I want to see them before I die."

I nodded, the lump growing painfully.

"I will. I promise."


	11. Chapter 10: Breaking the News

**A/N: Please don't hate too much after this chapter! I know I am torturing you, but the answers will come in due time! ;-)  
**

* * *

Even though the meeting with Max had left me depressed – but also, in some way, happy to be healthy – I was excited about this new piece of information. The fact that Seeley Booth had planned his disappearance easily explained why no one had been able to find them within the first few hours. That now left me to answer the question of what had happened after the kids had run off. I had a few theories that I was impatient to toy with as soon as I got home. I needed access to a computer to verify some things.

Before I left, I asked Max if he remembered the names printed on the fake IDs. He had chuckled and said he would never forget those names: Anthony and Roxanne Ruffalo. With these two names engraved in my memory, I drove home faster than I should have.

My laptop seemed to take for ever to boot up. I was excited to finally have something to go on. While I waited impatiently, I thought about Max. I wondered why he had never told the police about the fake IDs. After all, it would have helped them a lot and maybe put this case to rest.

Eventually, I was able to log into my computer and directly went to Google. I typed in Tony's name first. I scanned the first page without finding anything really valuable. Most led to Friendz Haven pages (I checked – none of the Tony's resembled Seeley Booth) and similar networking pages. It was only when I reached the second page that something caught my attention. I read the information given by the page. I felt my heartbeat increasing with each word. Could this information be true? I typed something into my cellphone. I searched a bit more without finding anything new.

Next, I tried Roxy's name. Again, same results. However, a couple of links down the page, something caught my attention. My heart skipped a beat. I continued searching, reading twice and even three times everything related to Roxanne Ruffalo.

An hour later, I was closing all my browser windows and shutting off my laptop. I stood up and slowly walked to my couch. My entire felt numb. If everything I had learned was true, I had uncovered something potentially big.

I knew it was too late to do much more. Tomorrow morning, I would make some calls. Until then, all I could do was wait.

The night seemed to stretch on forever. Eventually, I did manage to fall asleep. I dreamed my daughter was in a hospital bed, much like Max had been. I was sitting down beside her, talking to her about her mother when she told me Christine Booth would help her and not to worry. Parker appeared, took my granddaughter's hand, and disappeared into a bright, white light. I woke up in cold sweats. It took me a few minutes to realize that it had only been a dream, that my daughter wasn't dying of cancer and that my granddaughter was most likely safe and sound in her bed.

I made myself some breakfast. I was barely hungry, too anxious to continue with the investigation. So many questions ran through my mind to which I didn't have any answers. Yet, things still nagged at me; tiny details that were bothering me. I couldn't quite pinpoint what they were. However, I was sure something was amiss in this story.

After a quick breakfast, a long shower, and a revision of my notes, I grabbed my cellphone and made some calls. The calls were brief and to the point. Within ten minutes, I had managed to get two appointments in the following days. I called Parker to inform him I would be travelling down to North Carolina once again. He didn't question; he simply agreed to the mileage that was quickly adding up to his bill. I also told him I would stop to see Christine and Jackson and inform them on their grandfather's health situation.

I left two days later. The drive to North Carolina was long. It rained most of the drive, my wipers swishing rapidly across my window. I stopped only twice to use the bathroom and grab something to eat. When I reached Asheville, about 10 hours later, the rain had stopped. I eventually made my way through the unfamiliar streets of the city until I reached my first destination.

My first pit stop lasted only thirty minutes. I chitchatted in person with the man whom I had spoken to on the phone. He was less reluctant than earlier to give me the information I was looking for. The two of us sat down at his desk. He handed me papers that I read without really understanding what it meant. He kindly offered to explain it to me. When I left his office, I was slowly beginning to have a clearer picture of what had happened the night Christine and Jackson took off.

My next stop was not too far. Again, the meeting lasted briefly. I was explained a few things before another meeting was arranged for the following week. I would have to make yet again another trip down to North Carolina. This time, I doubted I would be making the trip alone.

After my second stop, I called Christine. I told her I was approximately an hour away. She told me it was okay to stop by. Jackson was on his way and Megan was working until later that night.

When I arrived at her apartment, I felt nervous. Everything I had learned in the past hours rushed through my mind. I knew I worked for Parker. I couldn't technically pass on details of the investigation to Christine. However, knowing what I knew now, I knew I would have difficulty lying if she asked me straightforwardly if anything was new. I had to, but I didn't want to.

She unlocked the door for me. Again, I found her waiting just outside her apartment, this time with her brother by her side. The three of us stepped inside and I closed the door behind us. Christine offered some coffee which I accepted. She asked me how my drive had been. I told her it had been uneventful, except for the rain which had accompanied me all the way to Asheville. She didn't inquire what I was doing in Asheville. I assumed she simply thought I had driven through that city to reach her town.

We took a seat in the living room.

"Was there a particular reason you wanted to meet with us?" Christine asked after we had sat down. "Anything new with the case?"

I took a deep breath in order to calm my racing heart.

"I'm here because I met with your grandfather."

Christine chocked on her sip of coffee. Spills fell on her lap. She immediately wiped it with the sleeve of her shirt. I wasn't sure how that was going to help but I didn't say anything.

"You met him? Where? When? Why?"

She looked frantically at me. Her eyes searched mine for answers to her questions.

"He had some important information regarding the case. I can't say what just yet. I hope you understand."

The two of them nodded.

"I thought important to meet you in person because I'm afraid I have some bad news."

Jackson frowned and Christine's face paled.

"Is he okay?"

"Not really. He's dying…"

Christine let out a squeal as tears filled her eyes and began to pour. Jackson immediately turned to his sister and pulled her to him. She sobbed uncontrollably for a minute or two before she seemed to pull herself together. She pulled away from her brother and turned to me.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't apologize. It's a normal reaction."

She sniffled a few times. Jackson got up and came back a minute later with a box of tissues. Christine thanked him before grabbing one.

"It's just… You think that you've lost your family and then, years later, they all seem to be coming back to you, one by one. I thought my grandfather had died long ago. I thought that was why none of our relatives had been found."

I could just begin to image how Christine must have been feeling that day. She had quickly pulled herself together and was soon her regular self. I told her about Max's conditions and his desire to see them both before he died. The two Booth children agreed to make the trip back to Washington, DC that same week. I offered to drive them back with me. Christine told me she would need to make some arrangements but would probably be able to take the weekend off from work. This suited me. I would be able to bring them back to North Carolina before heading back to Asheville for my meeting.

While I was in North Carolina, I decided to visit some friends I hadn't seen in a long time. Christine called me a day later to tell me everything was arranged and she would be good to go on Friday. It was arranged that I would meet them both on campus and would drive from there.

The rest of the week simply flew by. It felt good to take my mind off the case for a while, even though I didn't completely stop thinking about it. Soon enough, I was back in Cullowhee. Christine and Jackson were waiting for me in the campus parking lot, bags at their feet. I helped them load everything in my trunk and we set off. Christine offered to drive later on. I told her to relax and simply enjoy the ride.

"I've never been outside of North Carolina and Florida before."

As though realizing her mistake, she immediately added:

"In my new life, that is."

I nodded, understanding what she meant.

We spent the next 10 hours – we stopped for food twice – talking about her life in Florida. She told me more about her adoptive parents, things she had left out the last time we had spoken. She also told me more about her studies and what she was planning to do next. Jackson spoke little. He answered my questions but didn't offer any more information unless asked. Christine told me her brother had never been one to talk much. As a child, he preferred yelling and running everywhere. That comment made me smile.

It was early evening when we finally reached the outskirts of Washington, DC. As we drove closer, Christine went quieter and quieter. It was only when we entered the city that she spoke.

"Feels strange to be here."

Jackson, sitting in the backseat, nodded.

"I mean, I know I used to live here but nothing seems familiar."

"You were quite young when you left."

She nodded.

"Where are you bringing us exactly?" she asked me.

I had already told her she would be meeting her brother but I hadn't told her much more. Since she hadn't inquired about it either, I hadn't given her the rest of the information.

"Let's just say a lot of people are anxious to meet you," I answered. "We thought it best if you met everyone at Angela's. Do you remember her?"

Christine quickly nodded, a smile stretching across her lips.

"Of course I remember her! She's Michael's mom. She was always so nice to me when I was young. I don't remember her much but… I remember that she painted. Actually, she painted one of the pictures in my room. It was a painting of me and my mom sitting in a park."

I mentally scanned Christine's bedroom. I didn't remember the painting in question. It was possible that it had been taken down by Parker or someone else during the investigation and not put back into place. I kept that fact to myself.

Twenty minutes later, we were pulling up Angela's driveway. Christine had completely grown quiet and even Jackson had taken the headphones out of his ears. Both stared at the mansion before them.

"I don't remember them living here."

"They've moved, I think," I replied.

I parked the car beside the front door, much like I had done the last time. I turned to Christine.

"Are you ready to see everyone?"

The two siblings exchanged glances.

"Yes. We are."


	12. Chapter 11: Reunion

**A/N: I am finally giving you a bit more information in this chapter! Hope you enjoy! ;-)**

* * *

The three of us walked in silence towards the door. From the light in the window, I knew the Hodgins' and Parker were sitting in the living room, probably waiting for us impatiently. At the door, I turned to Christine who gave me a nod. Taking this as a cue she really _was _ready, I rang the doorbell.

We didn't wait very long. The front door soon opened and Parker stood in front of us. I heard Christine yelp behind me before she rushed past me and into her brother's arms. I heard her begin to weep as she clutched to her brother like a lifeline. Jackson stood on the front steps, not moving.

I found his stoic expression rather strange. He didn't move or show any emotion he might have been feeling in regards to seeing his older brother after so many years. Suddenly, it hit me that Jackson had been so young when his adoptive parents had disappeared. He probably didn't remember much from his early childhood with them. It was highly possible that he didn't recognize Parker at all.

Eventually, the siblings pulled apart. Christine turned to me, chuckled, and wiped the tears from her eyes.

"I'm sorry you had to see this, Jack," she said.

I simply shrugged. I hadn't expected less from siblings meeting more than a decade later, especially considering one of them was thought to have been deceased.

Parker turned his attention to Jackson. The two men stared at each other, unsure what to say. I could tell by Parker's attitude that he wasn't sure how to react. On the one hand, the young man had been his younger sibling. On the other hand, Jackson's body language didn't show his attachment to him. In the end, Parker went for the handshake.

"Wow Jackson, you grew!"

The young simply nodded.

"Come on in!" Parker told us. "Everyone is waiting for you!"

We stepped into the warm house. The three of us took off our shoes and followed Parker into the living room where Angela, her husband, and her son were seating. At the sight of us, Angela leaped to her feet and walked towards us. She stopped in front of Christine and tears began to fall from her eyes. She held the young woman at arm's length and examined her.

"You look just like your mother," she whispered before taking Christine into her arms.

For the second time tonight, Christine began to weep.

After the reunion had been made, we all took a seat in the living room. I offered to leave them alone but Parker and Angela refused.

"Nonsense!" Angela replied. "You're the one who made this reunion possible. You are staying to celebrate with us."

I knew I didn't really have a choice. So, I sat with them. Angela wanted to know everything about Christine and Jackson. Christine offered her the same information she had given me about her studies, her life after the disappearance, and how come she was still alive. Jackson didn't add much, only saying that he was studying criminology at the same university. I had a feeling Jackson felt out of place. After all, if he didn't remember Parker, he couldn't possibly have any recollection of ever being with Angela and her family.

"I've got something for you," Angela said, getting to her feet. "Stay right here. I'll be back."

All of us sat in silence as we waited for Angela to return. We heard faint noise coming from upstairs.

"What do you think she has for us?" Christine asked her younger brother.

Jackson shrugged.

A few minutes later, we could hear Angela's footsteps coming down the stairs. Christine gasped as she saw what her mother's friend was holding.

"Izzy!" she exclaimed, reaching out towards Angela.

"You left him at our old house the last night you slept over."

Angela handed Christine a stuffed hippo. Then, turning to Jackson, she gave him the stuffed elephant and a small blanket. The blanket was still white despite all the years that had gone by and was decorated with small blue elephants. Shyly, Jackson reached out for them. He examined them carefully.

"Do you remember them?" Angela asked.

Jackson nodded, slowly.

"Yeah… I think I do."

Angela turned to me.

"The blanket is the one Booth and Brennan found him with after his parents died in the fire. He never left the house without it. He didn't use it at home, only when he slept somewhere else."

"I remember those!" Christine said, excitedly. "It's been such a long time! I can't believe you kept them!"

Angela shrugged.

"I was keeping them safe until you came back," she replied in a small voice.

No one said anything.

* * *

I politely declined the visit to Max's hospital room. I was already feeling I had overstepped my boundaries by staying with them the previous night and witnessing their personal reunion. I told Christine and Jackson that I would pick them up Sunday afternoon and to call me when they were ready to leave. Christine agreed and I left her with her family.

Back at home, I tried to prepare for my meeting the following Monday. There were so many questions I wanted to ask and I didn't want to miss any details. I wrote down a list of questions that would surely cover everything I needed to know to shut this case.

Now that the end was near, I was feeling a sense of sadness. Everyone I met through this case had been wonderful, both in the personality and in regards to me. They had been very helpful and willing to give me information. I still wondered why Max had hidden evidence to the police but I wasn't about to turn him in over that.

I went to bed early, exhausted from all the driving I had done over the last couple of days. After spending time in hotels, it felt great to be sleeping in my own bed for a while. However, my sleep was short-lived. Around 2 am, I heard my cellphone ring. Sitting up in my bed, I reached for my phone on my nightstand. The caller ID showed me Parker's phone number. I frowned. Had something happened?

"Hello?"

My voice was hoarse and I had to clear my throat.

"Jack? It's Parker. I'm sorry to call you at such a late hour."

"Did something happen?" I asked.

Parker remained silent for a few seconds.

"Actually, yes. Max died tonight."

After hanging up with Parker, sleep refused to come. I thought of Max lying in his hospital bed, alone. The image of his face haunted me for the rest of the night. I could still see him underneath all of the tubes and could still hear his voice pleading for me to tell Christine to visit him. I thought it fortunate that Christine had got to see her grandfather one more time before he died.

I spoke to Christine later that day. Her voice sounded tired and I could tell from the sniffles I heard over the phone that she was still crying. She informed me that Jackson and she would be staying longer in Washington to help with Max's funeral service. I told her I understood. I asked her when the funeral would be held. She said it would probably be in a week or two.

An idea had formed in my mind during our conversation. However, seven days didn't give me much time to do my research and get the results I expected it would bring. Nevertheless, I knew it was the right thing to do and that I would have to try my best to use my time efficiently to make it happen.

After my conversation with Christine, I immediately called Parker. I told him I would need to drive back down to North Carolina. Though the previous time he hadn't question my trip to the southern state, this time he inquired about my interest in that particular state.

"You keep going back there. Unless you are meeting a woman down there and that you are charging me the mileage, it must mean you found something interesting."

I laughed at his joke and told him he had busted me.

"Actually, joking aside, I did find something. It seems like the last time someone has seen your parents alive was just out of Asheville, North Carolina. I'm following a lead down there. I'm not sure yet where it will lead me. I will let you know as soon as I can."

Though it wasn't completely the truth, it wasn't completely a lie. What I had found off Google _had_ led me to Asheville. And the information I had learned there had confirmed everything I had found on the Internet. Now, all I needed was that extra proof that would finally seal this case. That much I wasn't ready to share yet.

I packed my things for a week worth of sleuthing in North Carolina. I wasn't sure how long I would be there for and I didn't want to risk not having enough clothes and other useful things. Then, I got into my car and began my journey south.

I arrived 9 hours later, proud of myself for only stopping briefly to grab something to eat. I settled in my usual hotel. My meeting wasn't until tomorrow. The time seemed to pass slowly. Eventually, I managed to fall asleep. When I woke up the next morning, I could barely stand still. The end was near.

* * *

The room was cold and grey. I had only been in such a room once in my life, when I was a cop and had been visiting a criminal who had supposedly hired someone on the outside to do his bidding. I waited patiently, sitting on the hard chair. I had to pull many strings to be able to use this room and not the common area, separated by a glass, where all the regular meetings occurred. What needed to be said couldn't be heard by everyone around.

The metallic door eventually opened. A security guard walked in, followed by a tall man covered in an orange jumpsuit. His feet had been handcuffed, but his hands remained free. I highly doubted he would be a flight risk at the point but I said nothing. The security guard informed us we'd have one hour; no more, no less.

The man took a seat across the table. Even though many years had passed, he still looked the same. Only a few gray hairs betrayed the decade gone by. We stared at each other. Though he didn't know me, he didn't seem suspicious. It's almost as if he had known I would be coming eventually.

A few seconds passed before he spoke.

"You found me."

I nodded.

"It wasn't difficult once I got the right information."

"Who told you?"

"Max."

The man chuckled.

"I should have known. How is the old man?"

I gulped. This definitely wasn't the time to tell him that Max had passed away a couple of days earlier. There would be time later for all the superfluous chitchat. Right now, I was being paid to do a job and this job required that I finally get the information Parker had been searching for.

"Why don't you tell me what happened?" I asked him, ignoring his own question.

The man sighed and rubbed his face with both hands.

"It's a long story."

I chuckled.

"So I've heard."

He took a deep breath before speaking. For the next hour, I listened as Seeley Booth filled in most of the holes in the story that had captivated me from the start.


	13. Chapter 12: Identity Revealed

**A/N: Ready for some MORE answers?**

* * *

My heart was beating rapidly. I was finally about to have the answers to my questions. But Seeley took his time. He didn't seem to know where to begin, much like Christine had been when she had told her versions of the events. I watched him take a deep breath before he started.

"I guess it all began when we adopted Jackson. I assume you know about my son, right?"

I nodded.

"Yes, I do. I know about his parents dying in a fire but what I don't know is how he came to live with you."

"It happened in a weird way, actually. After the fire was put out, the bodies of his parents were pulled out of the house. We knew that they also had a baby. We searched through the wreckage for hours but we couldn't find him. Bones was wrapping up the bodies when we heard a cry coming from the backyard. We found him hidden behind a shed. We have no idea how he got out there. He didn't have any burns on him, only a few scratches and dirt.

Bones and I were registered as a foster family so we took him in while the social services looked for living relatives. A couple of weeks later, they still hadn't found any. His parents were from another state. His mother's parents had died before Jackson was born and she had no siblings. As for the father, this remained a mystery. They never found any relatives. In the end, Bones and I filed for adoption. We loved that boy so much! Especially Bones. She got really attached to that boy! It took about a year before he was officially ours."

I smiled.

"It's a very sweet story."

Booth nodded.

"It was at first! Jackson really livened up the house. Christine was a happy child full of joy, but Jackson was something else. He was active, always climbing up things he wasn't supposed to. He was the running-around-the-house-naked type of baby. It drove Bones crazy!"

A warm smile grew on his face as he remembered his past. I wondered where such a perfect story had gone wrong.

"One day, we started receiving letters. The letters were typed and stated that Jackson had been wrongly given away for adoption and that we should bring him back to the social services so he could be reunited with his real parents. The letters didn't seem very legit. They had no signatures and no logos or return addresses to know where they had come from. We received three or four like that within the course of two months before they stopped. A couple of months passed and nothing else happened. Eventually, we forgot about them.

One day, Bones came home saying she thought she was being followed. Bones wasn't the paranoid kind, so I believed her right away. We began to be more aware of our surroundings when we went out, especially when Jackson was with us. We didn't see anything out of the ordinary. One summer, Bones and I took a whole month off to be with our children. We went out to different places. Bones was in her photographing phase and wanted all of our outings to be "documented", as she put it. So, Max became our non-official photographer. That's when we began noticing the same man in some of our pictures.

As the weeks passed, he kept appearing in some of them. He was always in the background. Eventually, he began to come closer. He would be standing in line behind us at the grocery store, at the amusement park, at a restaurant… Wherever we want, there he was."

"Why didn't you report it?"

"We did. Well, Bones did. I knew the police would say there was nothing we could do about it. The man was always polite. He would only smile and say hi, nothing more. Eventually, he stopped following us. We didn't see him for a couple of weeks. Then, one day, we saw him again. This time, he was braver and talked to us. He told us we made a beautiful family and even offered to take a picture of us."

I thought of the only pictures that didn't include the mysterious man in it. I shivered at the thought the man had probably harmed them later on.

"Is that when you asked Max to give you the fake IDs?"

"No. The next time I saw him, I told him to stop following us or I would call the police. He simply laughed and we didn't see him again for a month or two. We thought life would finally be back to normal. Then, he showed up at our door. He told me Jackson was his son and that he wanted him back. I told him to leave. He came back several times, asking to meet Jackson. Every time we refused. One day, he shoved Bones aside and came in. I pushed him back out and locked the door."

He paused for a few seconds.

"I'm sorry this is taking so long."

I told him not to worry about it. He continued.

"One night, our alarm system went off. We heard footsteps in the house. I took out my gun. When I stepped out of my room, I saw him standing in front of Jackson's door. He sprinted past me and ran out of the house. I followed him for a few blocks before I lost sight of him. It was dark; he turned a corner and he was out of sight! That's when I realized I needed to do something to protect my family. I filed a report and told the police about the break-in. They treated this as an abduction attempt. But they never found him.

That's when I decided to get the fake IDs. Bones was getting worried about the children's safety. She wanted to make sure we had a getaway plan in case something happened. We knew he would strike again. He _wanted_ Jackson with a passion. He was convinced that he was his father."

"When did the break-in happen?"

"About five months before we left."

"Did you see him after that?"

Seeley shook his head.

"Not until the night we left."

I gulped. This was it!

"What made you leave that night? Did something happen that caused you leave your house?"

Seeley paused.

"Yes. The man, he… walked in Jackson's daycare that day. He said we had sent him to pick Jackson up and bring him home. The worker called me and asked to confirm that it was okay. I told her that I hadn't sent anyone to pick him up. She stayed on the phone with me until Jones left. He just apologized for the disturbance, said that he probably got the daycare address wrong, and left."

"Did she call the police?"

Seeley shook his head.

The more he spoke, the angrier I got. The case seemed like an open-and-shut case and yet, here we were more than a decade later, with the victim in jail and an abductor on the loose. I wasn't sure why the police hadn't picked up on all of that information. Were the daycare workers even questioned after the couple disappeared? Or had the worker simply not given any thought to the strange man that had walked in the daycare earlier that day?

"I left work early, picked up Jackson at daycare and Christine from school and went home. We didn't leave the house. I locked the door, charged my gun, and waited for Bones to come home. When she came in, I told her what happened. She said we had to leave town for a little while. Everything had been packed for months, just in case. That's when we realized Christine was listening to us. I told her to get her brother and that we were going on a little trip."

I nodded.

"I already spoke to Christine. I know her version of what happened next."

"You spoke to her?" Seeley asked.

"Yes."

"Does she know I'm alive?"

I shook my head.

"No. I haven't told them yet."

"Them?"

"Jackson, Christine, and Parker. They don't know I found you."

He didn't say anything to that. Instead, he continued his tale.

"Then you must know about the days we spent on the road."

I nodded.

"Yes, Christine told me about hiding in the park and living in motel rooms for a while. She wasn't sure what was going on, only that a man seemed to be following you. She was afraid of him because he was always yelling and sounded angry."

"Yeah, well, he _was_."

"What's the man's name?"

"Thomas Jones."

"Do you know where he is?"

Booth nodded. The soft expression I had seen on his face when he spoke of his children was long gone and had been replaced by anger.

"Yeah. Buried somewhere."

This information surprised me. Deep down, I had thought the pictures had been sent by the mystery man as a way of telling the Booth children he knew they were still alive. However, this theory was no longer valid.

"What happened to him?"

"I killed him."

"How come?"

Booth clenched his fist.

"He killed my wife."

* * *

**I am so... SO sorry! :-( Please don't be mad!**


	14. Chapter 13: Truth in the Disappearance

**A/N: Again so sorry for the bad news! **

**Thank you for those who have faith in me and that story. Thank you for reading so far! As for those who stopped reading (and have bluntly told me), I'm sorry you feel this way but I can't please everyone. I write this story for me and how I see that the story should develop. Bones fans are very picky about their fan fiction (and about the Bones episodes, I might add). It's a very difficult fandom to write in. I do my best! And I'm glad some of you like it! :-)**

* * *

I had already known that part. The search for Roxanne Ruffalo had led me to an obituary dating back 12 years. After consulting with the coroner who had autopsied her, I had found out she had died from her head injuries, following a fatal blow. According to the coroner, she had died instantly.

I let Seeley continue with his story. He seemed more at ease with each passing minute. I assumed he was relieved to finally tell the true story after so many years behind bars. I was anxiously waiting for the story of his trial and why he had come to be in prison.

"Why did you tell Christine to run away with her brother?" I asked.

"I had a feeling it would turn violent after Jones tried to grab Jackson. I figured she would hide in the woods and that we would go look for them as soon as we'd dealt with Jones. When the kids starting running, Jones got really angry and things became violent. He was strong, but I was stronger. We fought and eventually I pinned him to the ground. He was breathing hard. I threatened him. I told him that if he didn't stay away from my family, I would kill him. He said he was sorry and that he would leave us alone.

He got up and walked to his car. I didn't think he really _was_ going to leave us alone so Bones and I began running towards the woods to find the kids. Next thing you know, Bones is stopping me. We turned around and there he was, holding a golf club. It all happened so fast. I took out my gun and Bones kicked him. He didn't fall and before neither of us could react, he swung the club at Bones' head."

His voice cracked and I knew then that, even after all these years, he still hadn't come to grips with his wife's death.

"And that's when you shot him?"

He nodded.

"He killed my wife!" he added, his jaw clenched. "He didn't _deserve_ to live. I heard the skull crack. That sound still... I can still hear it."

I could feel the anger emanating from him. Suddenly, the atmosphere in the interrogation room became heavier. I watched Seeley as his expression turned to stone. His fists clenched and unclenched on the table. I waited silently for him to continue. I didn't know how much time we had left and there were still a few questions that needed answering.

"Why exactly are you in prison?"

Seeley sighed.

"I was sentenced to 12 years in prison for killing Jones."

Though I had had a feeling about this, I was still surprised that a jury would have decided that his act had deserved a full sentence for second-degree murder.

"Couldn't you have pleaded self defense?"

Seeley shrugged.

"My lawyer tried to convince the jury of that. But they thought that since he didn't actually come _at_ me with the club, I shouldn't have killed him."

"How about parole? Surely you would have been able to apply for it after a couple of years?"

He nodded.

"I could but… I mean, why do it? I lost my wife, my kids, my job… What life do I have on the outside? I was better off here. I'm a former cop, the others left me alone. I did volunteer work. I prayed for forgiveness for my sin. I kept busy. It kept me from thinking about…"

He stopped. This time, I respected his will for silence. The guard opened the door to inform us we had ten minutes left.

"Tell me again how you found me."

I was surprised at the change of conversation. However, I explained from the beginning every clues that had led me to him. He frowned when I mentioned the pictures. I asked if he had been the one to send them. He shook his head.

"No, I didn't. I wasn't allowed to keep them. Bones wanted to bring the pictures along in case something happened to us. They were left in the car, in Christine's bag. They took everything when they towed the car. I don't know what happened to them after. That's how you found me? Christine planted evidence in our house?"

I told him about Michael's help.

I knew our time was almost up. I thanked him for his time and I stood up. He did the same. As I headed towards the door, something popped in my mind.

"How long do you have before you can walk out of here?"

"Six days."

I thought of Christine and Max's funeral. I smiled at him and handed him my card.

"Call me, when you're out."

He took the card and nodded.

"Tell my kids I say hi."

I smiled at him.

"You'll soon be able to tell them yourself."

At that instant, in his eyes, I saw hope.

* * *

Back in my hotel room, I paced the room. Finally, I had all the answers to my questions but the story had created more mystery. Something was fishy in this story. I smelled cover-up on the FBI part and lack of professionalism in both the Washington and the Asheville Police Department. If truth be told, I shouldn't have been working on this case, years later. I was angry at the system and wondered who exactly was to blame. Who had pulled very questionable strings and why? Or was I still missing a piece of the puzzle? Would I ever find that piece?

However, I forced myself to stop thinking about it. After all, I had been hired to investigate the disappearance of the Booth family and that's what I had found out. I still wondered who had sent the pictures to Christine. Her mother was dead and her father claimed he hadn't seen the pictures since the day they had left Washington. Who'd had them in their possession and why keep them all these years?

I now had one more errand to do. I grabbed the lot number I had received from the coroner and headed to Riverside Cemetery.

The cemetery was really beautiful, especially under the sun. I always felt bizarre whenever I walked through a cemetery on a warm sunny day. For some reason, the two of them didn't really go together.

The cemetery was long and wide. I mentally thanked the coroner for having kept the lot number in his file. I had been surprised when he had offered it to me. I hadn't thought the man would have kept something like that. He told me he had felt bad for the woman when it turned out no living relative or friends could be located. I hadn't told him why.

I walked slowly through the graves in search of the lot. A cemetery worker passed by and I asked him for directions. He pointed in a direction to my left. I thanked him and continued on my way. Some headstones were new and modern. They shined under the sun. Others were older but full of that old age charm.

Eventually, I made it to Dr. Brennan's grave. It was a very simply one. It was a light grey stoned color. Her fake name had been carved into it.

_Here lies Roxanne Ruffalo. _

_Born October 8__th__, 1973_

_Died May 14__th__, 2017_

The date of birth had probably been taken off her piece of identification. I didn't known whether it was true but I was saddened by the fact that Dr. Brennan had been approximately 44 years old when she had died. So young!

I didn't quite know how to proceed next. I thought of Dr. Brennan and thought she deserved to be buried not only under her real name, but also alongside her father. She'd died alone but that didn't mean she deserved to spend eternity in that same state. I wanted father and daughter to be reunited. I just didn't know how to do that. I knew it would be very difficult and I doubted the state of North Carolina would agree to the excavation of a body and to transportation to the nation's capital. It was definitely worth the try, if only I knew who to contact.

I let out a long sigh. Now that I had all the information, I knew I had to inform Parker and his siblings. After all the emotions they had been through already, my news would send them on another emotional rollercoaster ride.


	15. Chapter 14: Breaking the News

I decided not to linger in Asheville. The day following my meeting with Seeley and my visit to the cemetery, I drove back to Washington. On the way, I called Parker from my car and told him I wanted to meet him, his sister, and his brother as soon as possible. I informed him that I had important news about the case that I needed to share with them. The anxiety in his voice was obvious as he asked me if everything was okay. I told him not to worry too much until I arrived and that I would be in Washington in a couple of hours. We agreed to meet at his house. He would wait for me, no matter what the time of my arrival would be.

At my first rest stop, I entered his address in my GPS. I ate a quick meal, washed it down with a bottle of water, and went back on the road. To say I was apprehensive would have been an understatement. Yet, I was excited to share the conclusion of my case with them. After all these years, a burden would finally be lifted off their shoulders. The Booth children would be able to be reunited with their father and at least would know what happened to their mother.

The trip passed way too quickly for my taste. Soon enough, I was pulling into Parker's driveway. His house was illuminated. True to his words, he had waited for me despite the late hour. The clock told me it was past 10 pm. The night was dark. Thick clouds blocked the moonlight. I slowly got out of my car. I looked up to find Christine stepping out on the porch, Parker behind her. I grabbed the folder from my backseat and walked towards them. They both greeted me, a hint of anxiety in their voice.

I followed them inside and then to the kitchen where Jackson was seated around the table, Angela and Jack beside him. I looked over at Parker.

"They wanted to be here. You can't argue with Angela."

I nodded. Angela had been so helpful throughout the investigation and she had been Dr. Brennan's closest friend. I simply couldn't deny her the information on what had happened to her friend.

I took a seat at the kitchen table. Parker offered me some coffee.

"If I want to sleep tonight, I better not," I replied.

They all chuckled softly. Their forced laughter quickly died down. They all looked at me expectantly. I felt my heart beat faster. This was it! All these weeks of investigating were finally coming to an end. I took a deep breath before speaking.

"Unfortunately, I have some good news and some bad news."

Christine grabbed her older brother's hand.

"The good news is that your father is still alive and well."

Parker let out a long sigh of relief. Christine, however, didn't loosen her grip on her brother's hand. Her eyes were still fixed on me.

"What about the bad news?"

I sighed.

"Your mother isn't."

I watched as the news slowly sunk in and the tears began to pour. Angela wept in her husband's arms. His own eyes were filled with tears which didn't fall. Christine and Parker held each other tightly. For many minutes, I watched the Booth family and their friends mourn the death of Dr. Brennan, something that they had been denied for over a decade. I felt a lump form in my throat but I forced myself to remain professional. There were still things I needed to tell them before I left.

Eventually, the outburst died down. Christine seemed to regain some kind of composure. She turned to me and apologized for their behaviors. I told them it was a natural reaction and that I was sorry for their loss.

"How did it happen?" Angela whispered.

I looked at each of them.

"Are you sure you want to hear?"

They all nodded.

While tears fell their eyes, I told them everything I had learned through my investigation. I showed them every piece of information I had; from the copy of the coroner's report, to the prison sentence files, and even the picture of the grave I had taken at the cemetery. I told them their father's story about Thomas Jones and explained how he had killed their mother. The atmosphere in the kitchen quickly grew heavy.

"I know Max's funeral is planned for very soon."

Christine nodded.

"Yes. We have set the date for three weeks from now. We decided to only have a small ceremony at the cemetery. Only family and friends. We would really like it if you could attend."

"Are you sure?" I asked, surprised.

"You gave us the answers we had been searching for," Parker replied. "You spoke to Max. You made the reunion between Jackson, Christine, and their grandfather possible. I think Max would like you to be there."

I wasn't sure what to say. I told them I would try my best to attend the ceremony.

"I want Mom to be buried with her dad," Christine said. "I don't like her being all alone in North Carolina."

Angela agreed. Before talks of exhumation could begin, I excused myself and told them I had to go home. Parker got to his feet and shook my hand.

"Thank you very much for your help."

"No problem, Parker. I am very sorry I couldn't bring only good news."

Parker turned to his younger sister and back to me.

"Yeah, Bones was cool. I liked her very much."

They all walked me to the door. Angela hugged me tightly and thanked me for my work. Christine did the same. Jackson, imitating his older brother, shook my hand. As he did, I looked deep in his eyes in search of… something. He had been the only one who had remained dried-eyed following the news. I understood why; yet somehow, it felt wrong. I wondered at that moment if he felt any grief about his lost adoptive parents.

After promising to keep in touch, I walked out of the house and let out my own sigh of relief. This had been much harder than I had expected it to be. The way Angela and Christine had broken down had torn my heart. Watching them mourn their loved one had been a difficult experience and I now needed time alone to recuperate.

The ring of my cellphone startled me. I had been dozing off when it had buzzed on the coffee table, singing out my favorite song. I grabbed it and the caller ID showed Christine number. I answered it quickly before it went to voicemail, wondering why she could be calling me.

Three days had passed since I had announced their parents' fate to them. I had finally recovered from the negative energy that had plagued me following my last meeting with them. I was curious to know Christine would be calling.

"Hi Jack! It's Christine!" she said.

"Hello Christine. How are you?"

"I've been better. We've all been better. We've had time to accept all the information though."

"Good. How's Jackson?"

"He seems fine," Christine replied.

She had tried to seem convincing and yet I could hear a small hesitancy in her tone.

"Jackson doesn't talk much, especially not about his feelings. He's always been like that. It's hard to know what he's really feeling."

There was a slight pause before she changed the subject.

"There was actually a reason why I was calling you. You know my dad is getting out of jail in two days, right?"

"Yes."

I knew it had been more of a rhetorical question as I had been the one who had told her about her father's release date.

"We thought we would go surprise him. Angela talked to Caroline, this attorney Dad used to work with, and she arranged for him to meet us outside the prison."

"Who's going?"

"Parker, Jackson, and I. We are leaving early tomorrow morning. We would really like it if you'd come. Please?"

I chuckled.

"Fine. Just tell me when and where and I will be there."

We made arrangements to meet at Parker's house at 7 am the next day. They wanted to arrive a day early and visit their mother's grave. I told her not to worry about it. Since I was taking my own car, I could make my own plans for the rest of the day.

When we hung up, a strange feeling crept inside of me. Though I had agreed to meet Seeley with them, something felt out of place. I was once again overstepping my boundaries; yet, something inside of me wanted to see the happy ending I had created for them. Besides, I was eager to meet with Seeley Booth one more time. I still had a few questions which we hadn't had the chance to discuss.


End file.
